Memories of Dad: Part X

Today marks five months since my dad's death. How is it possible that so much time has passed so quickly. In many ways, life looks different than it did before. It is full of additional challenges and heartaches. Tomorrow may be the last day that I will ever set foot in the house that my parents, my brother, and I moved into in January of 1984. I wasn't yet three-and-a-half years old when we moved in, but I spent many years there. I got married at twenty-four, so I spent over two decades of my life in that house. As of Wednesday, February 9th, it no longer belongs to my mother. Instead of the house being the Naumann house, as it has been for over 38 years, it will be the "Smith house" or the "Anderson house" or the "Davis house." It's just a house...I know. An ordinary house. I haven't lived there full-time for over fifteen years, yet it holds memories packed in almost every corner. Memories that cannot be put into a box and packed away or moved to another house. Memories of laughter, tears, joys, triumphs, games played, songs listened to, Christmases, parties, birthdays, and the list goes on, almost endlessly. Though the memories cannot be relocated, they will always be in me - in my file marked childhood. The loss of my dad still feels unbelievable in many ways, and now I must say another goodbye. A goodbye that shouldn't be hard, since I moved on long ago. A goodbye that, I pray, will bless another family. A house of love and peace and family and joy. A house bathed in prayer with that baked in feel. A house that will gain new memories - hopefully good, happy, healthy memories. Strength will rise... I need that strength. Not only to find joy in the middle of grief, but to hang on to courage and do all that I am called to do. Live the moments you won't regret. Live the moments that will become amazing, delightful, lovely memories.

Blessings, friends.

Jolene