The grief monster is lurking in the back of my house…

And I’m about ready to go head to head with him.

I have Doug’s pictures on my both bedside tables. I have his ashes next to me. I have reminders of him all over the house. The calendar pictures he framed for me for my birthday. The salt rock lamp that he bought for this past birthday…the one that came a week after he died. All of these memories around me but there are more in boxes in the bedrooms at the back of my house. His leather coat, his suit he wore for an interview at the airport. His scull cap that he wore all the time during the winter. His models. They have been sitting back there since December.

This weekend I had some boxes taken down to the basement. I couldn’t look at them. I can’t look at them. I have one more room to go through and arrange and get settled. Most of the things in there are his things. Our things. I’ve decided that it is okay that most of our stuff is still in boxes and in the basement. I will go down and unpack them when I can. I’ve decided that this is okay. That I don’t have to unpack everything of ours, his. That I can do this slowly. Or not at all.

Right now I just want to focus on getting the house settled a little more. This has been hard because I have moved from our to mine in a matter of seconds. No period in between. Sometimes I have regrets for doing this. Other times I think it was the best decision I could make at the time. It is just sad because he is not a part of this house. Of this decision. Of the decisions that I have made since buying this house. I don’t like that. At times, I wake up in the morning and just pretend that I am back with him in our bedroom. That it is a Saturday morning and I turn over to see him asleep and look out the window at the huge trees. That I snuggle up to him. He wraps his arm around me and kisses my forehead.

I miss those moments.

So today, today I will take this monster, this hell, head on. I will cry. I will sob. I will survive.

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