I haven't been able to write for a while, partly just due to not having the time, and partly due to not being able to find the words to describe what we have been through in just 3 months and 12 days.
I knew in my heart when I fell and broke my wrist on October 21 that something big was around the corner. As I sat on the ground surveying my newly accordion-shaped wrist, I had a flash image of Dad taking a dramatic turn for the worse cross my mind. I just knew I needed to be off work for a reason, and I feared because of Dad's pancreatic cancer that it was him who would need me.
Just 18 days later, my big brother, Kevin, suffered a fatal massive heart attack. Two weeks to the day after that, Mom went into the hospital. Five days after Mom was admitted, Dad went in too. Mom died less than 3 weeks later, and Dad died 2 months and 2 days after her. As I type these words, we are in the process of dismantling their household.
Today I stood in the sunroom of Mom and Dad's home and took in the echoing silence. This is the house that Kevin and I found together. The house that we had no choice but to search for when my mom became unable to climb the steps of their former home. The house my dad cried over having to move into because it wasn't something he chose, it was something that had to be for their safety.
This is the house that brought our family together. The house we all spent days cleaning, working on and moving Mom and Dad into. The house we were so excited about them seeing the first time! The house where we had Christmases, anniversaries, birthdays and Easters. The house that we all felt at home in.
This is the house where Dad caught the cornbread pan on fire. The house that always had Top Gun radio blasting from Mom's Bose Acoustic Wave in her bedroom. The house that always had Fox News blaring in the sunroom as Dad sat on his side of the red love seat. This is the house that smelled like freshly washed towels tumbling in the dryer.
This is the house where Mom sat in her bedroom in her recliner watching The Price is Right, dreaming of how she would bid if she could only go be a contestant. This is the house where she discovered the Crumb Buster, her little mini-vac that she used on the kitchen table.
This is the house that was always set at 78°, year around. This is the house that I brought groceries into each week as my dad looked up from his chair and waved at me as I walked in. This is the house that I got poison ivy at every single year as I pulled up weeds. This is the house that was covered in Star Shower lights each Christmas.
This is the house that Dad strutted around in his crazy poker card shirt one Christmas Eve. The house that Mom last played the piano in. The house where Kevin made macaroni and cheese pans that were the size of the stove top! This is the house where Kevin stopped me in my tracks one day to tell me he loved me.
This is the house we got called to too many times to count because Mom or Dad fell and needed help getting up. The house where Dad lost his ability to be independent and to take care of Mom. The house they both last drove from. This is the house where Dad last watched the Braves play.
This is the house where I had to come do an emergency cleaning on all the windows after Kevin used his "miracle cleaner" that didn't have to be rinsed! This is the house where I planted Dad his own tomato plants and Kevin thought they were weeds and dug them up. This is the house where I watched in horror as Kevin was falling backwards off a 20 foot ladder while hanging their big clock underneath the vaulted ceiling, his eyes locked on mine all the way down.
This is the house where everyone would sneak candy from the candy bowl. This is the house where Dad brought me an ice cream sandwich as I painted the garage one summer. This is the house where we planted rose bushes for Mom to see from the sunroom.
This is the house where we held Mom and Dad together when Kevin died. This is the house Dad begged to come home to. This is the house where we brought Mom and Dad both home on the same day with hospice care. The house where we had our last Christmas gathering early for them as we knew Mom wouldn't make it until the 25th.
This is the house where my dad sat sobbing from the pits of his soul as my mom slipped away. This is the house that we all came together in to care for Dad as the cancer took him over. The house we spent every day and night for the last 2 months. The house my dad last walked in. The house where we hung up his coat for the very last time.
This is the house where we last said I love you and where we heard it said back. This is the house where they took their last breaths on Earth. The house they left to journey to their eternal home in Heaven. This is the house that stands quiet now, no lively voices filling the air.
This is the house that is waiting on the soul whose life will fill it again with laughter and love. The house we will always hold close to our hearts. The house that will bring both a tear and a smile each time we drive by. The house that will always be part of our family history. Not just a house, but a home it was.
This is the house. This is the house.
