I have heard rumblings of whether or not I will stay in my house a lot since the accident. Not many people have asked me the question directly, but I've heard the discussion.
It is an obvious question. Joe and I bought this house before we were even married.
We built our married life together here. We planned our futures here. We brought both of our children home to this house. We celebrated here. We got awful news here. We watched our children grow from babies to toddlers here. We ate dinners together here. We had huge fights here. We had Christmases here. We had Thanksgivings here. We lived here.
So I'm staying.
I would never know how I would feel until I was in the shoes that I am in...but I can not leave my house. It is difficult for sure. All of Joe's stuff is around me. I haven't changed much because I want things to stay constant for my children. I would never in a million years take them out of the only home they have ever known. I believe it is more important than ever for them to sleep in their own beds in their own rooms...to come home to the same place...to play in the same places that they always have.
It is difficult because this house also holds my darkest hour. I was hysterical in these rooms. I stood on the front deck, holding the phone that I hold every day, and I heard the words from the doctor.
I walked around these rooms in the days immediately following the accident and I could hardly breathe (and I mean that literally). I laid on the couch and cried while my mother held me, for hours.
My house was a sad place on those days.
But the mood in my house has not been that way since those first few days. At any given time here, there is activity, happiness, chatter, singing, living.
The words I write here are sad, as are my feelings, but we are not sitting around doing nothing and wallowing in despair. I would not want that for my children. They have to see that life goes on, and there is still lots and lots of happiness, among sadness.
We miss Joe so much and there is a piece missing from our house. We talk about him all the time with smiles on our faces.
There is a sign on my wall that says:
"Home is where your favorite memories are".
So, we're home.