"You forget the things you want to remember and remember the things you want to forget."

This came from a book I'm reading, called, "The Road" by Cormac McCarthy.
How true it is. I try so hard to remember things about Mom and Dad. I'm afraid I'm going to forget little things, and I don't want to. But then my memory doesn't seem to be lacking when it comes to February 9. Too much of that day and the following several days I can't seem to forget.

Some work on the house was finished this week. Our half bath in the attic is done and we have a new floor in the rest of the attic. Nothing fancy, but still! It is good, I think, to have something new. A new room that totally had nothing to do with Mom and Dad. Well, Mom always wanted a bathroom upstairs. She talked about it for years. But...they never did it. Not sure why. It is
kind of strange. Mom is exactly the person I want to show the new room, too. I find myself wanting to show her what we've done and what color we painted. But if they hadn't died, we wouldn't be moving over there and we wouldn't have remodeled. I still want to show it to her, though. Get her reaction and approval. I think she'd like it.

Now we have to put stuff back in the attic, paint the bedrooms upstairs. Then move Mom and Dad's bedroom furniture upstairs to my old bedroom, and then...not sure. But we're getting there. Slowly but surely, we'll get moved over there.

This week I went to a reunion of sorts of my Bereavement Group. The counselor said it gets really hard again at 6 months. I guess that's when you really accept things. I know I'm not there yet. I still find it really hard to accept that they are gone, and the way that it happened. I still having moments over at the house when I think they should be there or that it feels strange them not being there. I still think of them when I walk out the door--picture Dad walking down the steps or on the sidewalk in front of the house. I saw an older lady in a Le Sabre yesterday and it reminded me of Mom. I could picture her coming down the hill at I Street in her sun glasses and pulling in the driveway. I can still see her out in the yard filling her bird feeders, looking at her plants and flowers, sitting out on the back patio. We used to sit out there and talk. Mom used to also sit on the front porch a lot at night by herself. Sometimes I wouldn't even know she was out there. She'd be over there in the corner. I think I will always think of her when I sit over there.

Somehow her little hummingbird rain gauge got broken. I think either the fence guys did it or Larry or Charllie. I think she bought that over at Nashville--maybe at the Bartley House. It made me think about going to Nashville with her. We went every October and had been doing it for at least 20 years. I'd even come home from Chicago in October so we could go. I don't know if I can go this year. I loved going with her. That was our day. We'd go to Nashville and shop, maybe eat lunch at the Ordinary or Hob Knobb. We always hit the candle place, the Trilogy, the Bartley House. Then we usually went to the Brown County State Park and drive around--looking at the fall leaves, etc. We didn't do that last year. I think she wasn't feeling well and was tired from the prednisone. The year before we really spent a long time there.

Well, now I'm rambling. So better go.

Susie