We’re moving next week. This has been the plan for years. The deal was always, after we’ve lived here for 2 years, we get a rent to own house in their school district. What we didn’t plan was only taking 3/4 of our children with us, and starting a life with just “The five of us”.
I’ve had my hang ups about moving…leaving the house where I have so many memories of her. The house where she colored on the walls and blamed her sisters. The house where she put stickers all over her door, only to take them off upon my request, and then just rearrange them. The house where she spend probably nearing hundreds of hours glued to YouTube, and playing dolls with Norah. The house where we would clean out the car together in the summertime, and the house where I tucked her into bed every single night. I would say “I love you, Poot!” And she would say, “I love you too Muh-Muh! Can you read us a story?” And honestly, most nights I would say I was too tired. God, why did I have to say that so many damn times? Why couldn’t I just spare 10 minutes out of my night for her? Collectively, that would have meant so much more time I could have spent holding her.
Today it hit me hard. Today I realized, when I pack everyone’s things up, and get them to the new house, I won’t be unpacking her boxes. All her stuff will be there, but she doesn’t have a room anymore. She doesn’t have a closet for me to cry in. She doesn’t have a bed for me to remember laying with her in. I’ll have no memories of being with her there; only without her.
These are her things. These are her favorite clothes, her favorite toys, her unwashed bedding, her dirty stuffed animals she would never let me wash. These are her memories. These are my greatest treasures. If my house were to burn down, and everyone was safe, but I could grab one thing, it would be this particular box. Jude’s things. She shared everything with Norah and Hannah, her clothes and toys both. But these things. These were hers only. They are my memories now.
I keep finding myself whispering “Judy come home please” even though I know that’s impossible and I’m not even sure if she can hear me, but I have to believe she can, because if not, I couldn’t keep going.
I miss her presence with every ounce of my being.