There are packers in our house this morning. Strangers sorting through our carefully gathered treasures. They quickly wrap them in brown paper and place them in boxes.
It would take me hours and days to do this same work because these things are my own. They are a part of our life here, and it's strange to watch it be so swiftly dismantled by people whose names I've already forgotten. Tape. Wrap. Box. Label. Move on.
With breath-taking speed our Okie life is coming to an end, and it's no longer us in charge of ending it. For a person who likes to be in charge, it's been a challenging morning of sitting on the couch and trying to stay out of the way.
My job today is waiting and watching. When they are done, it will be time to clean, but until then I sit on the couch or pace the house and try to let the professionals work.
If only I could slip out the door to Mass. I'm so in need of the peace of Christ this morning. A weekend spent consoling my children's tears has left me emotionally unprepared for the turmoil of today. I had prepared for this and steeled myself against it all, but I gave those reserves to my weeping daughters and spent them on my crying sons.
Today I have only the strength to witness others ending the life I love. I am trying so hard to simply float along on this wave and hope it carries me into tomorrow and beyond to Friday. Oh blessed Friday, when our new life will have begun again. The tears will have dried and the hope begun. I just have to make it through today.