Getting back to us…

The upstairs back bedroom has had it’s door(s) shut since December 2009. That is the month that our things arrived back ‘home’ to my new house with our son. That is the month that I began living in a house that was not ours but mine. That is the month that I began realizing a life that was not ours but mine. That is the month I put our things in the back bedroom…your things in the back bedroom. Flight logs, helicopter magazines, pictures, books, our desk, our computer, our lamps, the sticky notes you had things written on still tucked inside the basket that used to hang in our entryway, matches you had used, half pieces of tums, change from your pocket, the chalkboard stickers that still had your writing on them, the birthday party stuff from Liam and my birthday the day before you died – still in the bag I had used to carry them in from the car, two roses from the bouquet you brought me that day.

Small things.

Reminders of you.

Reminders of us.

This is why the upstairs back bedroom has had its door(s) shut since December 2009. It has taken me several attempts to get this far. To unpack, repack, set our things out, set your things out. I’m sitting here in this new room with our things right now. I had always planned on using it as an office. I wanted to be surrounded by our things that we’ve always had out in our office, in our house. I just couldn’t do it until now. I’m not sure why today of all days I marched up the stairs after 1pm and just did it. There were several times where all I could do was just sit on the floor next to an open box and cry. I got out the things that we’ve always had out. Surrounded myself with them. Surrounded myself with our things.

It’s not like the rest of the house is bare of you. It isn’t. Our things are all around us. It’s just that there are new things to go with the our things. Sometimes I wonder if I should have stayed where we were and not moved. To live surrounded by us and by the familiar. Would I be better off? Would we be better off? I’m not sure.

I do know that today was the right day, the right moment to do this. It made me face all of this head on once again even though last week was a stark reminder. Maybe that is what pushed me to face this. Face that you really are not coming back. Face the many many little things that remind me of us, of you.

I have a candle burning in here. It smells of patchouli. It smells of your one bedroom flat in Lawrence when we first met so many years ago. It smells of laying in bed with you, sitting in the same room with you reading a book. It smells of beginnings. Of hope.

I guess that is proper since I am beginning a new venture. One that is because of you. I am starting a public charity that will provide scholarships to helicopter pilots. Scholarships that will make a difference in their training. Make things a little easier financially for struggling pilots. Help people achieve their dreams – the dreams that you had. I’m doing it so that our dream and your dream will always live on. I so wish that we could be on this path together still. To work towards achieving our dream, your dream. That feeling is what I loved about us. We were a team. We had each other. It was easy, you and me. So for you babe, this is part of your legacy.

Today. Today I brought us into this house. I brought the memories that have been so hard to face back into my life. It is almost like one of your hugs. I’m not ready for a new beginning but I am ready to…live.

Especially with your love with me.

I love you in this life and the next.

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