Tuesday, November 22, 2011

Haunted Forest

Folded laundry.  Unfolded laundry.  Lists.  Spilling suitcases.  Packing for a holiday.  I unzip a carry-on bag, and I see remnants of one of Robb's business trips. 

Seriously? How have I never opened this suitcase in the last eleven months?  How can there be anything still hiding?  Does this haunted forest never end?


My breath catches in my throat.

"Oh, honey."

I hear myself talk to him. I almost never talk to him.  Not out loud.

I hold his things in my hands.  I look at my mess scattered across the living room.  Oh, how little of this I have needed to do before.  Robb would have had us packed two days ago, batteries charged, DVDs gathered, headphones packed, snacks delineated.  It would have bothered him that my laptop wasn't yet charged and stowed.  He was so good at this.

I just get it done.  Packing is overwhelming.  And overrated.

Pandora plays through the speakers above the TV. 
"How Great Thou Art."

I make myself listen.  I close my eyes.  I rock myself, holding my pieces together.

3 comments:

Chris Kerns Chappuis said...

Tricia, I'm a high school friend of your parents. I read your blog daily and hold all of you in prayer. I'll be praying more fervently as you approach this anniversary and holiday season. May you feel our Lord's arms around you and feel His peace.
Chris Chappuis

Shelly @ Life on the Wild Side said...

Hang in there, sweet girl. I'm thinking of you, and I so appreciate that you are sharing your journey--painful days and not-so-painful days.

I love how you put it--haunted forest--that's truly what it is. A few years back I was helping my mom clean out her attic for a cross-country move she was making. We came across a box that held some of my brother's things (he had died as a child, probably 30 years earlier). Even though so many years had passed, we sat together, touching each thing, remembering, and having a good cry together.

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