It is no secret to anyone who knows Momma well that our house, and its location, have never been ideal (for Momma). This house - with its 4500 square feet, 5 acres of land and abundance of nature - has never fit Momma's mold. But, it is what Dadda owned and needed for his kids when we were dating. This house now holds little but sadness and horror for Momma. Some of the other reasons this house isn't a fit for our family today -
- On a year round basis we have 3 people living here but 6 bedrooms?!
- The house and commute are over an hour away from Momma's office and almost 30 minutes from the restaurant that Dadda owns.
- The roads out here are one lane, narrow and fast. There is no way to take a run or a stroller out for a walk without fear of a collision with a car or pack of cyclists.
- No County water. Why that is good - "free" well water. Why that is bad - septic system. Yuck.
The list could go on and on. But, the main reason Momma needs to get out of this house? I believe it is cursed. A house of pain, sadness and sorrow. A house of shadows. A house that death visited, once upon a time, and discovered it enjoyed.
This house stole you from us in the dark of night, when you should have been safe, sleeping in your crib at 16.5 months of age. I will not let that happen again. Not to The Pickle.
We are moving in 2 weeks. A new house, a fresh start, a different beginning. So many bereaved parents talk about never wanting to leave the home that "knew" their deceased children. I couldn't disagree more. Because, you will be moving with us. What we are leaving behind are the sad, painful memories. The horrific visions of Dadda standing outside the shower holding your lifeless body, performing CPR on the bedroom floor, and coming home to a silent tomb filled with remnants of you.
I will not miss this house.
Peanut, you are on this journey with us. I can feel it. It is so odd, how spring has become the season of positive change in the wake of your death. Two years ago this week we began the conversation that resulted in The Pickle. Now, 2 years later, we are moving to a new home and neighborhood.
Spring. The season of hope.
As I watched your brother play in the yard today, trying his hardest to run under the bright April sun, I realized...we have ventured into uncharted waters. But, it was in the warmth of that yellow sun and southern breeze that I felt you most. My Peanut.
Yes, with your watchful eye it will be good. Safe. Happy.
Oh Peanut, how I miss you. How my heart longs for you and your beautiful smile. Your long eyelashes and dexterous fingers. Your hugs, kisses and gentle way.
<Big sigh> I love you. To the moon - and back.
|Our side yard. See? Way too much space!|