It was a wild, busy day, but I felt like nothing happened, like I got nothing done. I don’t know why I felt that way except that I have been experiencing a lot of grief lately. The thought of people walking through my parents house for the estate sale has brought me to tears on several occasions. It feels so terribly disrespectful. I know how much the thought of strangers in their home would have horrified them when they were alive.
But they aren’t alive anymore. If I think with my brain, I know my parents would want this process to be over, and for me to be able to move on, to stop anguishing over all of these “things.” It’s just that I know how very precious those things were to them. Oh how I wish I could talk to them about this.
I have to get up and walk over to the framed note I received from my dad. He wrote it to me in 1990 when our farm was in grave financial difficulty. “Dearest, Chin up my love. Things will work out. Dad”
I am so very thankful I kept that note. I don’t know why – but I did. I need it so very much right now.
On a bright note, I got to visit with Tom Westfall, an expert on Native American artifacts. How absolutely fascinating an afternoon that was! It sure made me want to go out and do some arrowhead hunting. That was something I was never successful at when I went along with my dad – even when he ‘salted’ the trail for me. He’d have to circle back around and pick up the arrowhead he’d planted in front of me to retrieve it after I’d walked past. No one has ever accused me of being observant – that’s for sure. I thought those trips were for being outside, watching the clouds, and listening to the birds sing. Now I want a do-over.