My dad and I were supposed to go and mud out the house in a few weeks, but this man is going to buy it as-is. I'm not sure what I was hoping to find. My dad and I both have scoured both the house and the garage apartment for anything salvageable...and both of us came up empty handed. So I'm not sure why this news has got me so shaken up. I cried and cried for the longest time. I guess it's just that final seal on the life that was...in every sense.
It's been so easy to get comfortable here in the new house, new part of town, new life...and all the rest seems almost surreal. I answer point blanke questions all the time about just how much damage we sustained...I've gotten the answer down pretty well ("fourteen feet of water, it stayed in the house for three weeks, the oil refineries leaked too, so everything's contaminated, we live on the North Shore now, we're doing fine, starting over, things are going well, please don't feel bad, we're doing fine, I promise"). It's gotten to where I almost have to do the comforting when I answer that question because people ask without any clue of what we went/are going through and they feel horrible when I give them the answer.
Memories still come back slowly of those few weeks...first in the hotel right after the storm, then Texas, then New York. There are still parts of it I can't quite put my
finger on...like those fleeting shadows in dreams. Maybe it's God's way of protecting me...He knows where my limit is (thank goodness!).I just have to keep reminding myself that I am grieving and will continue to grieve. It gets easier, but it never disappears completely. I still cry. In August I'll cry again. It's a death that I'm mourning, and you don't just get over that. But I have hope. Lots and lots of hope.
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