Wake Me When September Ends.

A few posts from my FB this last week. It’s so weird to think it’s been two years since Mom passed, yet a part of me thinks she’s in that house down the street still, surrounded by her stack of used books, sitting on the sofa with Winston. It’s too surreal to think they’re not there. Also, I still think Grandma & Grandpa are out at the farm, playing gin rummy for nickels and making sandwiches for their grandkids, gum in the bottom kitchen drawer and Pepsi in the fridge. Dad said they’ve got an offer on the farm and they’re gonna accept it. He managed to buy a small portion to go hunting on, but the rest is being sold, including the house. I’m glad, in that it won’t be sitting empty, dark & alone anymore...but sad too, because it will no longer be The Weston farm. Until Sis & I bought this little house together, the farm was the one place I thought of as Home, far far more than my childhood home. So September has been a strange month of letting go.

( Anyway, my posts... )

If you read all of that, thank you.