I had a dentist appointment today. (I know, really exciting stuff!) Anyway, the dentist's office is a couple of blocks from my Grandma Maria's house. Let me amend that-- a couple of blocks from the house where Maria lived. It's no longer her house; the house closed on Monday and now belongs to someone else.
Driving to said appointment, I found myself purposely going a different route so I wouldn't have to drive by the house. Intellectually, this is silly and I feel a tad foolish. It's just a house; she isn't there anymore. But emotionally... emotionally, I wasn't ready for it. So many memories are locked up in that house.
This will be our first Christmas without her. She always loved this time of year: all of the baking, the buying of too many presents, the overabundance of tape to be sure the box was closed under the wrapping paper. (Seriously, one year she used duct tape to guarantee the box would remain sealed.)
You think you are doing fine and are healing from the loss. And then something stupid and trivial, like the driving route to an appointment, will set you off again. Bloody hell.
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It's normal. I did the same thing with my grandmother's house in north Tacoma for a while. It'll be 3 years next month and she still comes to mind often.
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