tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16084741723001916.post4861279600372833408..comments2021-10-31T01:07:04.409-07:00Comments on Woman at a Crossroads: Musings on the Ever AfterSteelerFanMomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17301622415031642154noreply@blogger.comBlogger3125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16084741723001916.post-353601945589318332010-07-26T17:57:56.026-07:002010-07-26T17:57:56.026-07:00You have been talking about Montana since I have k...You have been talking about Montana since I have known you and you are asking "where?" Hmmmm, Colorado is beautiful and has Robert Redford, New England has the lowest crime rate, Maine is nice - I feel like I know it since I have read every Stephen King novel written, I have heard great things about Coeur d' Alene, North Idaho. I just like the name. It sounds so European.Valerie Quarleshttps://www.blogger.com/profile/12168270050721941614noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16084741723001916.post-92098762605355076882010-07-25T16:04:56.591-07:002010-07-25T16:04:56.591-07:00This comment has been removed by the author.Marissa Pearlhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/11315925723239879512noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16084741723001916.post-39727713543515381912010-07-25T16:04:13.849-07:002010-07-25T16:04:13.849-07:00"But, do I really have to be slapped in the f..."But, do I really have to be slapped in the face everyday with reminders of the struggle? Even under my own roof?"<br /><br />Unfortunately, yes. Because, unfortunately, the struggle occurred, mostly, under your own roof. And as we pack, you will be slapped really, really hard.<br />I abruptly stopped my moving back into my room process when I was dusting/cleaning the furniture one day and found sticky spots on the lower part of one of the desk chair's legs. They're impossible to get off. I don't know for sure since I have no proof, but at the same time I do know for sure because I just KNOW, that those sticky spots are old vomit splatters. Not so much a slap, but more so an unexpected sucker punch to my face. It's hard, it hurts, but I feel it, too.<br />Granted, when we leave, when we're actually gone, those subtle reminders of the struggle that lie within the house, the stains etc., won't be there, but some kind of reminder will always be around us. It sucks, hard, but we can endure the blows together... I'd much prefer it that way, actually.<br />I'm sorry, though I know it's not my fault or I hope it isn't, that you have to be slapped in the face with reminders of the bad, but try to see how many more reminders of the good are around.. the art, the old family photos, those adorable I'm-a-broke-artist cards she made for us, the love she showed through notes and puppy-eyed-smiles (though those are only available in our minds, now, unfortunately) when she couldn't bring herself to speak what she felt, which was majority of the time.<br />Please believe me when I say that as we do pack this place up and come across more and more of these reminders, the good ones and the bad, we will find more good than bad, and that's what we will be packing to take with us. Both will hurt just the same, but we must let the good, the beautiful, the talent, outweigh the bad in our minds & hearts and keep them closer. Though we cannot ignore or forget the bad, because it was ever-present for so many years, we can TRY to let the greatness of your eldest, my sister, be the strongest memory we carry.<br />I'm rambling. I wonder if it will let me leave all of this in a comment.<br />I love you, momy. You can always talk to me. And you're wrong that no one reads your blog.. I do.Marissa Pearlhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/11315925723239879512noreply@blogger.com