Nouns, Verbs and Emptiness

Grammar 101:  A noun is a person, place or thing. This is in contrast to verbs, which are action words. I'm in the middle of grieving, which is a verb. And the nouns are making it harder. Take for example the noun "mother". Of course, that's the noun I am grieving. But there are triggers of less significant nouns that intensify the grief. (Grief in this case is also a noun, which just makes the English language that much more interesting.)

The biggest of these triggers is the house. I love my mom's house. It is a small brick ranch, with three bedrooms and two bathrooms. (Although, to say the third bedroom is a bedroom is a bit of a stretch. By real estate standards with closet and egress, it is a bedroom. It has never been used as a bedroom. It is the office.) Mom bought the house when I was going through my divorce. She gave up her life in the town she had lived for more than 70 years, including her friends, her sister, and her church, to be near to me and my teenage daughters. I appreciated it more than I ever thought. After all, I had spent years foolishly thinking my mother lived the perfect distance of 150 miles away from me. I could see her when convenient for both of us but didn't have to listen to all the momisms on a regular basis. However, when I needed her I needed her. I had friends, and they were great, but they were not my mom. There is nothing like a mom when your heart is breaking.

But back to the house. Mom settled in and made it her own. She added upgrades over the time she was there, sometimes saying she did not know why she was doing it. The upgrades made the house more beautiful. Mom always liked nice things. The house in which I was raised was built at the turn of the last century, and she was easily frustrated with its idiosyncrasies. There were big things....only one bathroom, no garage, no separate family room and an upstairs that was impossible to heat. The basement was an old fashioned cellar. When my parents moved from that house after I was graduating from college, I grieved the loss of that house. When my girls hear about their father planning to move from the house in which they were raised, a get it. I understand. A house is more than house--it is often a sense of security. When my mom left the "new" Hebron house to move here, it did not bother me nearly as much as the original house.

So now my sister and I are faced with cleaning and selling the house in which my mom spent her last seven years and in which she died. Mom knew this would be her last home, and so she kept the sentimentality of it to a minimum. She had been through the jewelry, the pictures, the clothes and given many of them away. She let me know what things she wanted me to have and what things my sister was to get. Mom left my sister and I with strict instructions to NOT FIGHT over the distribution of her assets. Her will was clear. The big things are to be split in half. To this point, my sister and I have honored that and I see no reason why we won't continue to do so.

My sister left for her home in Colorado on Tuesday morning. When I went over Monday afternoon, the grief hit me in a wave. I saw the truck with Mom's things and the realization that she was gone was overwhelming. The house is still nice, but Mom is not there. Her things are there. Some furniture remains. My sister and I will be dividing more of the things next month. We have been in touch with a realtor who will assist in selling the house. When that happens I will no longer be able to walk in at will, and give my mother my standard greeting "Hey mom" and kiss. I will be reminded yet again that she is not with me.

A dear friend is coming over tomorrow afternoon to help me look through some of the papers necessary  for the estate. I'll take some of the things with me that my sister and I have already agreed upon that are now mine. Hopefully I will not cry the entire afternoon away. I will continue to miss my mom. I will need to focus on keeping my house as my home, and let it be my sense of security.