It's easy to forget from one move to the next, just how much 'stuff' a person can accumulate. With each move I've made, I've tried to cast off some baggage. This time, the baggage is more emotional than physical. Not just mom dying, but the 'aftermath' of it-eating meals alone must be the worst...no wait, it's sitting alone watching evening tv, or going to bed in the silence-leaving the tv on for background noise. You know, to cover all those suspicious house noises.
I've never been a scaredy cat, and I don't think I'm one now, I just hate the silence of a too big, too empty house. I'll get over it. There's a new start just around the corner, and it's up to me how it goes. I choose. I'm the writer of the story.
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