Had to spend part of the weekend in Hamilton, OH helping my sister get mom and dad’s stuff cleaned up and moved out of their old house.  I had thought that when I left there in October to move back to Evansville that it was hard then.  This time was hard, albeit without the near disastrous emotional breakdown as last time.

I came home with plenty of boxes of mom and dads stuff.  It’s going to take time to go through them, organize them, and store them appropriately.  The new dinning room table works better in the house than I’d imagined. 

But the truth is, no matter what I do or don’t have that used to be mom and dad’s, nothing is going to help me get over the fact that I now have one less address in my addressbook, one less map point in my GPS to deal with, one less destination for holidays and occasional visits out of town.  It’s hard to imagine going to visit my family and not going to that little house on Griesmer.

How is it that we may have never lived in a place, yet have so many memories and such an attachment to a tiny little house?

I miss you, mom and dad.  I know you’re happy, but we miss you so much.