A few nights back, I went to my dad's house for the very last time...ever. I went by myself. I wanted to go by myself. Like so many other things that night, this empty swing brought tears.
The house felt lonely, so empty, and cold. It was sad. I was overwhelmed with loss. I took pictures through my tears.
This roof was perfect for playing Annie-I-Over.
On cold, dark, snowy nights Charity and I played Duck, Duck Goose in the backyard. We trudged through the snow in our heavy moon boots, pushing the white fluff aside to make our paths. Draper was much smaller then and the winter air was silent. The sky was black, but a warm, soft light glowed through the kitchen window.
This window looks into the room I shared with Charity. The carpet was red; Raggedy Ann & Andy paper covered the walls; and we had a big yellow dresser.
Mom picked out this light switch cover. She thought it was beautiful. That was over thirty years ago.
My sister's husband painted a beautiful, countryside mural in the t.v. room for Mom. He didn't complete it until after her death. Blake began the painting for Mom. After her death, it became vital for him to finish the wall. He felt compelled to complete the painting to honor's Mom memory.
Charity and I used this closet to play hide-and-seek. It was one of our favorite spots.
This house once had life; now every room I entered was void of life. I longed to sense the presence of Mom and Dad, but all I felt was sadness. Nothing was here. No one was here.
My grief is compounded because in a few days, I won't even be able to drive by and look at the house. That too will be gone. New owners are taking down the house, razed to the ground.
It is crazy that the destruction of a non living thing can cause my heart to ache so much for Mom, Dad and Susan. I feel lost!