Dear Mom (7)

Dear Mom,

Seventeen days. Eight hours. Sixteen minutes.
It seems like so much longer.

I think I’ve moved into numbness, most of the time at least. I have moments of happiness and I still get hit with moments of intense sadness and weeping, but the sobbing has let up. For now.

One of the things that makes me tear up the most though is thinking of moving soon. I love this house, it’s my dream house – both old and updated. Charming and modern. It’s just not in the right city.
And it’s the place you helped me pick out. And you helped me plan the layout. And everywhere I look you’re there in some way. And I’m so thankful, and so sad.
It makes me torn about moving. It’s hard to be here right now because those memories make me so sad to face a future without you here. But once I move I won’t have those reminders of you in my home any longer. And that makes me feel just as sad.

On a related note, it’s a weird feeling to be an introvert who doesn’t want to be home.

There’s more to tell about this week, but it’ll hold for another time.
I love you Momma.

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