Today we began moving my stepfather, or 'Pop', as we all call him..into his new home.
We barely made a dent in the move. Tomorrow we have movers who will do the lifting and loading, which will help a bit. This is difficult enough.
It hasn't even been two months since my mom was killed.
Since then all of my parents belongings, save a few pieces of furniture and necessities, have been in two large storage bins. That was the plan..to store their things until they found their new home up here. Instead, it is only one of them moving into a new home.
The one moving wasn't even the one who wanted to be up here..my mom did.
But Pop is staying here. He has no one back in Florida..and a just a few of us up here.
I am trying to be strong through all this..but it is so hard..
Especially seeing and holding things that were last touched by her. She so carefully wrapped and boxed up their belongings. I feel like my heart is getting torn out over and over again.
I know I have talked of losing my faith...this hurt just renews that feeling.
I will keep searching though, looking for answers..and a peace..that I may or may not find.
Because I really would like it back.