Friday, April 29, 2011

3 weeks

It’s been 3 weeks since that fateful Friday.  3 weeks since he took his baby girl to school for the last time.  3 weeks since he sent his last email.  3 weeks since the last phone call he made was to my mother to tell her he wasn’t feeling well and was going to a walk-in clinic later.  3 weeks since it was too little, too late. 3 weeks since he took his last breath. 3 weeks. A mere 21 days.  A period of time that seems like both years and only a few moments at the same time.  Time stands still, then runs through my fingers like sand. 

Even though we didn’t know for 2 more days, we are fairly certain he died on Friday, sometime late afternoon or early evening.  As a family, we were reflecting about what we were doing on Saturday 3 weeks ago.  My mom was decorating her home for Easter, in anticipation of Brian and Kayleigh coming to town sometime soon, since they weren’t able to come for her birthday earlier that week.  My dad was at the warehouse shuffling cars and equipment around, thinking about the race that they were going to do later in the year.  Britt and I were doing the usual Weaver running – we have 3 kids and it seems to always have something to do.  But we were all thinking about him, in our own way.  Hoping he actually went to the doctor, thinking it odd he hadn’t called mom back and wondering why his phone was going straight to voice mail.  My mom said her “Mother’s Intuition” kicked in my mid-afternoon on Saturday, but there was no way they could get there before Sunday morning.

So, now here we are 21 days later.  The family has come and gone.  The funeral is and over.  Food has been consumed, paper goods used and tossed, flowers died and thrown out.  The list of thank you notes is overwhelming, but the list of tasks regarding the Estate is downright daunting!  That’s where our reality is now.  We have a house and a car to repair and sell.  A house full of furniture, housewares, paper and STUFF to sort through and dispose of, sell, keep, or otherwise take care of.  He was a 40 year old man with a genius IQ, and his ways were not like our ways, and he was a bit of a slob.  The mere THOUGHT of going through that house sets my nerves on edge.  But, it must be done.  So, we pull up our boot straps, put on our happy pants, and get to it.  Tomorrow, that is…

I guess I had been a little anxious the last few days.  I had a massage on Wednesday, and I am still sore from that, but I feel my shoulders inching right back up towards my ears like they were when I went in.  I also had some crazy dreams/nightmares last night.  I very rarely remember my dreams, but last night I dreamed about gruesome car wrecks and woke up with a start more than once.  You know, we treated my daughter for PTSD after she got hit by a car last year.  I feel like I got hit by a car, and I’m having nightmares just like she was…  We’ll see what the next 3 weeks bring.  Time has to start healing wounds, right?

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