So, had some issues this weekend that I'm choosing not to delve into.
I'd like to write a post about something a little more serious, just because it's on my mind.
Over the weekend, I unexpectedly spent the better part of a day alone in the house I grew up in. At first, I was intrigued and guiltily skulked around opening drawers and cabinets.
I went up to my old room and looked around. It's very clearly my old room, as there are still some belongings of mine there. Some silly (cabbage patch dolls?) some painfully important (the materials purchased for the wedding dress I never got made), but still, my stuff.
I went into VonSis's old room, and dug a little. Meh, not as much there.
Back downstairs I went to the main floor. I sat in the living room - still only used on Christmas Eve. I sat on the couch and had a good cry over VonDad. It was such a crushing feeling of loss, like it was yesterday. I ended up talking to him for a good long while. No, he didn't answer me.
Roxie (VonMom's dog) persuaded me to go outside with her for a while. I don't think she's a fan of crying. We went out into the massive and glorious yard of my youth. Giggle. Ok, not just my youth. I went over to the exact area that my old boyfriend and I used to lie in the middle of the night just talking and smoking cigarettes, sometimes fighting, mostly not, him terrified that my 130 lb Alaskan Malamute Kodi would come outside and join us at any moment. Me, I was terrified of my parents coming out to find us there. It was the perfect spot, as they were none the wiser.
I walked back over to the patio, at the little cement square that shouldn't be there but is because I had to had to had to have a basketball hoop in junior high.
I went back inside and sat down in the kitchen.
It was there that it hit me - one day (and I so hope it's a long way off) my siblings and I are going to have to go through that house room by room, memory by memory and sell / give away / box up everything in it. Someday, another family will live there - or worse - someone will tear it down because they are more interested in the large lot of land just sitting there in Chicago.
I moved in to that house when I was 5. I consider it where my life actually began. And the sneaking thought behind all of this was that someday, I'm going to lose VonMom too. We've really barely just begun appreciating each other, and really liking spending time together.
Someday, I'll be a grown up for real. No, I'll likely never act like one, but someday I'll have to be one because I will have to live the rest of my life without my parents.
I know this is a ramble, but it's coming out of my heart-place instead of my head-place.
So there it is.