It’s the Random Things

“Sometimes I just cry at random things.” ~ Keith Urban

Like most women I cry over just about every movie I see. I cry when I read something that moves me. I cry when my children succeed at something and my heart could burst with pride. Because I lost my mother, I cry on holidays and her anniversary. Because I lost my mother, I cry over the random things….hearing someone order a maple walnut sundae which was her favorite, finding a ring I had given her for her birthday, seeing a recipe card in her handwriting. It’s the random things that are the hardest.

I was finally in a somewhat less stressed, less anxious, more peaceful state of mind. I have been decluttering and making some progress. I have been taking a few small things to my apartment. I have told my boss my situation and she didn’t judge me. I have had civil conversations with my Husband about financial things. I felt hopeful that things were getting better, and felt kinder toward myself.

And then two random things pulled the rug out from under me and sent me back into sadness. I know that random things are always lurking, yet I am still always completely shocked when they appear!

Husband had a picture from a happier time on his dresser, along with a note to himself to start cleaning out my mom’s dressers in the basement. And when I saw the note especially, I felt such sadness, I thought, wow this really is happening, my marriage has ended and he is already thinking of what I will want to take away with me, of what he doesn’t want to have around anymore.

While it is rightfully mine, it made me feel sad because he was making a note to remind himself of something he doesn’t want to do but has to. Because I did this. I had told him that I just wanted a few things right now like a couch and old dining set, and that I would get the rest later, and the dressers were not items I felt I needed right now. It made me sad because again he didn’t listen to me and is just doing what he wants to do. I’m sure he is thinking that of course I need the dressers, so he needs to take his stuff out. I didn’t want to take a lot of big things now, especially my mother’s things, because I wanted to not have a lot of old stuff with me in my new life, random things that remind me of all I have lost.

I wish I would have more random things that make me happy instead of sad. Then the random things wouldn’t be so hard.




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