Friday, March 3, 2017

Transitions

 A week ago this past Monday was my mom’s funeral. The next day we emptied out her apartment. A week ago today I went back into her apartment, cleaned it head to toe and turned over the keys to the caretaker.

I also disconnected her phone. After doing so, I naturally had to call back to her number from my cell phone to see what would happen. “The number you have reached has been disconnected.” I guess that’s the message I expected to hear, but I still didn’t like it.

By noon, I had everything out of Mom’s apartment except for the vacuum and a few cleaning supplies. I got to her door, propelling the vacuum back and forth, back and forth. Back and forth. Back. And. Forth.

“You are going to wear out that carpet,” the voice in my head told me. “It is clean enough.”

Back and forth.

“Chris,” there was that voice again. “You need to leave now.”

Back and forth.

“Get a grip. It’s just her apartment.”

Back and forth.

“Chris . . . “

All right already. I turned off the vacuum, unplugged it, rolled up the cord, took it out into the hallway, and pulled the locked door shut behind me. 

8 comments:

Linda Kleppe said...

My heart is crying for you! I am soooo sorry you are going through this. It'sthose times others forget you still have to go through! I love you. and we sure loved her!! God bless

Elizabeth Olmstead McBride said...

The hardest thing when my Mom died was returning her library books. One of them she only got half way through before she died. I waited until the day they were due to return them. I still have her wallet with her ID and health insurance cards.

Carol Rehse said...

Chris, My heart breaks with you. My mom has been gone many years, yet I miss her everyday. Going back to her home, cleaning and getting rid of her things, closing the door for the last time, actions that were so final and heartbreaking. Chris, I am with you in spirit but most of all our loving Lord is with you as you face the future without your mom. Carol

Chris Loehmer Kincaid said...

Thanks, everyone. The other thing I face every day is that her apartment key is no longer on my keychain. You'd think I wouldn't even notice one less key, but I do. It's all right, though, I know she's in a better place.

Mary Beth said...

I still have my moms drivers license Chris. I still can't drive down Bradley farm road so we who loved our moms and we're blessed to have them as friends mourn with you.

Paisley Kirkpatrick said...

Hugs, Chris.

Anonymous said...

I'm so sorry for you Chris. It's the "little things" that are the most painful. The little reminders of a loved one. Hopefully your heart and mind will be in sync again, but never forgetting. God bless you,you are so special.

Susan Marlene Kinney said...

Oh Chris, I didn't know. Bless you. May God's comfort and joy be yours. Hugs to you sister in the Lord.