Eight years ago, we woke up to the sound of laundry detergent bottles floating into walls in the basement. We called in sick to work and waited for direction from emergency personnel that would come too many hours too late.
The house is quiet. I can hear little man in his crib beginning to babble himself awake. But he’s settling in to catch a few more zzz before it’s officially time to rise. I love this of the day. The rhythmic breathing of my husband beside me almost lulls me back to sleep. Then I remember.
Shortly after our house flooded and we were living with my parents, my mom could tell I was in a funk. Let’s call it what it was. Continue reading
I am writing for the Two Writing Teachers March Challenge.
I have been waiting. And waiting. AND WAITING. It took us forever to find the house we wanted to turn into a home. Few knew we were even looking. We would venture out under the guise of going to Great Grandma and Grandpa’s house for the football game. We did do that. But we would just stop at one to five houses for sale along the way.
Today marks two years since I started this blog with the post linked HERE. I wrote that blog as a reflection of the time since my house flooded…documented HERE. I’ve been MIA for the last twelve plus months. Click HERE, HERE, HERE, HERE, and HERE if you want to see why. Life is busy. I know this. You know this. Your house floods. Your mom dies. You have a baby. Somehow, the world keeps spinning. But some things don’t change.
It’s been along time since I wrote for Memory Monday. Of course, being Tuesday, I am still a bit late.
There are just those things I find most comforting. I’m sure it is the same for everyone. Some of my favorites include
The beautiful daffodils that bloomed just days after the flood.After the terrible flood that changed the course of my life and marriage, I never thought I would see the rainbow. We spent days along with family and friends shoveling out our home. Each visit back to the house brought heartache, anger, and anxiety. Nothing was the same. Nothing would ever be the same.
What is a year?
365 days.
8,760 hours.
525,600 minutes.
The blink of an eye.
An eternity.
Karyn In The Kitchen 