Wednesday may 4th 2022 we decided to tackle the bedroom. We had boxes stacked higher than our head. We’d made good progress in the living room, and decided to get something done in the bedroom.
We started with one stack, opening a box and putting things where they belong. When we finally made it to the bottom box, it was soaking wet. We initially thought something had leaked out of one of the boxes, so we began searching for the culprit. Was it the baby oil? Nope, it was water. We get down to another row of boxes and the bottom one was again, drenched. What the what! The carpet is all wet! It’s not coming from the boxes, it’s coming from the house! Mitch pulls up a corner of the carpet and brings in a big fan to try and dry it.
We’re thinking it’s the shower maybe, or could it be from the washing machine? Either way, our unpacking came to a stand still and I reach out to the home warranty company that was purchased by the seller when we bought the place. (Side note: it’s currently May 8th and we haven’t heard from them)
I woke this morning with big plans to start again in the bedroom, but God had other plans. Bentley had passed in the night.
My heart is beyond broken. We all knew it was just a matter of time, we’d been treating his congestive heart failure with a couple different medicines, morning and night, along with seizure medicine.
Last night his breathing was labored and shallow. We figured it was because he’d snuck into the cats food, eating all he could handle. I planned on giving him another lasik pill before I went to bed. After putting him in his bed, I decided to put away some things first, then go back out and check on his breathing later, while he was sleeping. I forgot, I didn’t check on him, or give him an extra pill and he died. I should’ve done it when I thought about it. The guilt, the sadness, questioning if I’d only done things differently. I’ve let all this clutter overtake my my mind, and my life.
I’ve realized that I am not ok. Not ok in so many ways. My priorities have become overshadowed by stuff, weighing me down. My mind, like our room, is a jumbled mess, unable to find things, I am unable to find my old self. The self who cared about getting things in order. About being organized, about doing instead of having. I am not equipped to be weighed down by stuff anymore. I know giving him that pill wouldn’t have cured him, but I can’t help but think that he’d be on my lap right now if I wasn’t so overwhelmed with all this stuff. I only have myself to blame, I did this.
A few days have gone by, my tear soaked towel is crumpled on the floor along with a thousand other things. Mitch and I just got in a heated conversation about all the boxes, still full of stuff not being unpacked, all the things going on, who’s doing what and such. Going from 3,000 sq ft to 1,500 sq ft and having a reselling business take up the entire two car garage, It’s just such a trying time. Not to mention three houses into one, with the families things as well. But, honestly they don’t have that much, it’s mainly us…ok honestly, mainly me.
We had our yard sale on Friday, sold about half of the stuff and loaded up the rest. The guys took the remaining items to Saint Vincent DePaul’s thrift store. We already have two more boxes full to donate, and I’m sure I’ll fill up many more in the days to come.
To my baby boy Bentley..the privilege to love you, the gift of your love, has been a glimpse of heaven. Please forgive me for failing you.