Over a year ago, I was chatting with a father at daycare. They were expecting their second child, and in the process of moving to a new house. I asked why they were moving (it was an in-town move) and he said that he wife insisted. I asked casually, 'need more space'? And he said no, that his wife said there were too many bad memories in the current house. Their first son had severe acid reflux and she said the living room reminded her of the hours they stayed up trying to comfort him and all the crying.
I was taken aback. Nora died in my living room. I did CPR on her on my bed. Her ashes are buried in our front yard. I would never, in a MILLION years, want to move away from my house. While it does have sad memories, it also has wonderful ones. I remember exactly the day I ran downstairs to tell Aaron I was pregnant with Cam. I remember the fun (and drama) of Aaron and my renovation efforts. The laughter as we figured out that the awful smell in our living room was a dead animal in the Christmas tree and not a poopy diaper. The dinners we've eaten in our dining room, and the fun parties we've thrown for friends. The weekends Aaron spent doing projects with his father. All of it. Mixed in with the sad. That's life, right?
But ever once in a while I get it. When we took down Maggie's crib and they both left the house (we brought the matching one to my mom's cabin for overnights), it was like a huge weight was lifted. Getting rid of the crib that Nora never got to sleep in. I didn't realize until it was gone that every time I looked in Maggie's room, I would think of the hours spent setting that room up for my twin girls. But, slowly, we have new things to make new associations and memories with, and the pain gets a little lighter. Still, in surprising ways, I'll get slammed with the loss. Sunday, at church, they sang a song that was sung at Nora funernal. And the minute I opened the hymnal to that page, I burst into tears. So does the pain go away? No. And maybe a fresh start somewhere new would be nice. Where I didn't see reminders at every turn of what's been lost. But I can never imagine moving away from my home. Where Aaron and I have built this little family.
I'll take it all, the happy and the sad. Because the happy makes the sad bearable.
4 comments:
Wow, that puts things in perspective. Acid reflux was too painful a memory to have in her house?? I guess if it's the worst thing you've ever experienced... Anyway, I don't want to be judgmental of this woman, but that seems a little extreme. I am glad you have lots of positive memories of your own house, so you don't feel that way. And overall, your positive attitude is impressive.
Well said! And strange timing. Sunday driving back from Vermont the radio played the muppets song. First time I heard it since Nora's funeral. Couldn't help but get teary eyed. And then Monday got to see your post with the pictures of all the smiley faces!
I've learned through a lot of things that you can't judge other people's feelings. Going through Maggie and her acid reflux - it IS awful. And if that is your gauge of bad, it's totally justified. To some, a breakup of a 6 week relationship is life changing.... it's all personal life experience, right? My father would have said, if a baby with acid reflux is the worst thing that ever happens in your life, it's a pretty great life. To me, that applies to everything - something worse can always come along. I try my hardest not to get involved in the 'pain olymipics'.
Thank you for this post. I needed to hear this today.
xoxo
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