There are so many changes taking place in my life right now. One of which is moving. My family and I are working together on the new home. It is time consuming and emotionally difficult. The home is the one my dad grew up in. It is Granny's house. It is hard taking a home and removing one's life to begin another.
It has been an emotional journey, and will continue to be one. The other day, I took trash to the road. This "trash" was my grandmothers belongings. It wasn't good stuff to donate nor anyone would want it. In a way, it was useless stuff. Yet still, I was throwing my grandmothers things away. That was emotional.
The more we paint, it feels like I am wiping her away. The hand prints on the walls are no longer visible, the smell of her perfumes is becoming faint. As each work day comes and goes, if feels as if another part of her is being whisk away.
Here are a picture:
The kitchen after it has been emptied out. It's ready for painting and a good cleaning.