Yesterday Emma and I said "goodbye" to our house in Granger. I've spent the last few days supervising packers, carpet cleaners, and movers, all the while preparing the house for our new tenants. I cleaned in spurts occasionally picking up the spackling blade or paint brush to touch up the walls. As I drifted from project to project I couldn't shake the death imagery that kept coming to mind. I am a very visual person and sometimes the only way I can describe emotions or situations is through pictures and symbols.
While struggling to explain to a friend the emotional detachment I was feeling as I wandering through the rooms of my house and drove through the streets of my former neighborhood, I kept picturing veils over mirrors, as they do in some Jewish communities during a time of mourning. I felt as if I had placed a veil over my emotions in regards to the death of this season of life. There was also this impression of preparing a body for burial as I lovingly cleaned each corner and dressed each flaw in my home.
There is no doubt that I am sad. I'm eating like crap, not sleeping well, restless, having stomach pains. But the emotions are not up front. There are no tears. This transition has been a long time coming. Somewhat like a loved one who has suffered and been ill for a long time. You are prepared for the death, maybe even hope for it at times, but it is still painful when it happens.