Today people will  be walking into my home and taking my things.

We listed stuff for sale on craigslist because we can't bring it with us. A woman called and will be taking the bunk beds and maybe a loveseat.

I am so sad. I know it's just stuff but it's stuff with memories attached. It's stuff that made up my home. I feel homeless.

This is mom's place. Her things. Her tastes. Her neighbors. Her flowers. Her yard.

I've worked so hard to turn our place into a home. Planted a herb garden, weeded and weeded and weeded, hauled furniture around, made curtains. You know, all the things you do. And now some stranger is going to be wandering around in there touching stuff that I will never get to see again.

I know I will get through this. Compared to putting my brother in some awful place, this is nothing. Only one of us could keep our home and I can adjust.

It's just that there is so much to adjust to.

My home in Roanoke was surrounded by people who loved me and whom I loved.

Okay. Time to stop whining. I just had to get it out of my head. I can't really afford to be angry. I need to get it out and move on. Things are what they are. There are worse circumstances out there for sure. A friend's mother had a stroke like my mom but she is dying a very slow death in the hospital while they wait. I'm so grateful that didn't happen. So, this is just what happened and I'm doing what has to be done.

Thank goodness for Dan. He has helped me keep my head. He's let me grieve. He's let me vent. And he just keeps on loving me.

I promise this blog will not always be so grim and sad. I'm grateful that I've had it as a place to get this out.

If you're reading this, thank you. Blessings.