Well, that was awkward.

Yesterday I went down to my parent's mom's house. It's the first time since dad's service that I've been back down there. About a month after dad died, she moved into a different house. He hated moving, as they did it often. And it did not feel right to be there without hearing him bitch about the clutter and moving again. In fact, it was really hard. The only sign of dad that was immediately visible (which isn't saying a lot because there is crap strewn EVERYWHERE. Mom says she's been too depressed to clean, organize, or unpack) was the huge picture of his face that was on the table with his ashes at his memorial service. Everything else of his is hidden away, or still in boxes. His ashes are in a box in the guest room. Makes no sense to me, but whatever.

Within 5 minutes of being there, I could feel my blood pressure rising. I started getting irritable. I'm assuming because walking into this house, being around all their stuff, and not seeing dad watching tv or hearing him fuss was in all honesty, heart breaking for me. As sad as I feel I've been over losing him, I'm still not sure that my heart is fully grasping it. And it irritates the hell out of me that you walk into my house and there are signs of my dad everywhere. Pictures on the bookshelf and mantle, the hubbs carrying around his old pocket knives, his ashes on my key chain and in a necklace in my jewelry box, his old flannel jacket draped around the seat of my stationary bike that's right beside my bed. I feel like he's everywhere in this house. In what would be his house, I had to search for him.

The hubbs and I were talking on the way home, and I suppose that I'm going to be critical about everything about daddy now. Because nothing will ever be good enough. Not the box for his ashes, not where they're displayed (or not), not what mom chooses to do with his stuff, not the house that mom is now living in on her own...nothing. Because nothing is right without dad. The morning of his service, I frantically went through about 4 different outfits because nothing felt "right", until it dawned on me that NOTHING I picked out would feel "right"...because the idea of going to my dad's memorial service wasn't "right". Being without him wasn't "right", and neither was saying goodbye to him.

Regardless, I better get my shit together and learn to accept it. Otherwise this is going to turn into a serious issue. >.<