This Week In Review

This time last week I was busy, together with Sister #2 and Matron of Honour, working through the short list of Reception chores for Sister #3.

I think that by 11:45 we were concluding that we had completed all we could complete at the moment and were heading out to find the Tim Horton's we'd seen a few blocks over. Coffee and bagels were had by all.

It was a good weekend. There were no complications. Sister #2 picked me up, as planned, at the North Battleford bus depot. I bought her a belated birthday lunch and we commenced driving south to Swift Current. It was a good time of visiting and catching up.

I think we were of some help to Sister #3. There are always the last minute odds and ends that need doing, and that was partly why we went early. Sister #3 did amazingly well with a houseful of relatives from both sides. Johanna's Easter wedding is still fresh enough to be able to appreciate the stress that pulling such an event together brings. And the happy couple were married in a lovely, simple ceremony in their beautiful back yard. She has a good, loving husband, and I have a lovely new big brother.

My plan A had been to take the bus home so I could be back for Sunday. After realizing my screw up with the bus schedule, I had concluded that I would have to take the 8:30 am bus on Saturday morning. This would have had me missing the wedding altogether. I briefly considered driving down so I could stay for the wedding, but I would have had to leave before the reception anyway, and I would have missed the 4 hour catch-up session with Sister#2, so I decided the best thing was to just meet her and take the bus home as planned.

Plan B kicked in when I asked my Second Sister if she'd be interested in extending her trip back to Edmonton by about 6 hours. Very graciously she considered Plan B, and in the end I was able to stay for the wedding, and we left together after the family pictures were done.

Sunday was a sad and difficult day.

Randall tendered his resignation, and the prospect of moving became reality.

I've spent much of this week Egyptian Swimming, treading water in de-Nile River, but the mounting pile of boxes in my former sewing "room" is forcing that particular actuality upon me.

While Randall's been busy as a nest of Hornets getting ready for winter, I've begun the packing and sorting process. So far I've gone through "My Stuff", and I've pretty much packed up the sewing room and my pottery things. The box of pottery tools etc. hasn't been taped shut yet, as I'm still hoping to get down there a couple times to finish some things off, but I've done pretty well.

Next on the list is the canning shelf. A major move is always a good time to empty out 8 year old jars of crystalized jam...

Yes.

This week has been a hard one.

Hard for all of us, on many different levels.

This move seems to be affecting the grown-up children more than the home-boy. It has much to do with being far away while their childhood home is painted, packed and sold.

I know they'd all like to come home for Thankksgiving to say goodbye to it; to walk through the rooms one last time and get a little more closure.

Like I told one of them this week- being depressed about it is justifiable. It means that the security and safety of Childhood is effectively gone. You know you've outgrown it, but having it always there is a comfort.

A constant.

It means you can never go back, and while some days that's an exciting thought- moving on and growing up- on days like today it's just sad.

And frightening.

And lonely.

And life will go on.

And because we know God is in this, we can expect Joy to meet us along the way.

But, like I told that dear child, you just have to give yourself permission to feel sad for awhile.  It's like a death. And to be unable to be around while it's happening is like missing the funeral.

We're all in mourning, really, so we have to expect to feel sadness. We know the sadness won't always be there; it WILL fade for the most part, but we shouldn't ignore it.  I think it's just something that is there.

It is what it is.

We recognize it and shake hands with it, then walk with it for awhile until it takes a different road.