The Way It's Supposed To Be

This morning I am thinking about the task that is looming before me later today.  For weeks I have been riding around in a magnificent carriage called Procrastination, drawn by two strong steeds named Denial and Avoidance.  But now I am facing the fact that my time for this free ride has expired.  I have been dropped off, rather unceremoniously, at the doorstep of Reality.  Today is the day my siblings and I will start packing up and clearing out things that once belonged to our brother, Andy.  My heart lacks eloquence, able only to repeat an impotent platitude: “This is not the way it’s supposed to be.”  If I’m going to his house on a Saturday morning, it should be to pick him up for breakfast or, perhaps, to go shopping.  It’s not supposed to be for this.  Since he passed away, I’ve gone to his house almost daily.  I’ve just wanted to be where he used to be.  After today, though, many of the things that were his will not be there.  After today, we will gradually be putting in new things to fill empty spaces.  After today, I know I need to stop calling it “Andy’s house.”  But, for now, I’ll just sit here a little while longer and allow myself to remember.  I will remember how much he enjoyed cooking the turkey for our annual Christmas Eve dinners.  I will remember the look of surprise and joy on his face when my friends and I did an extreme makeover of his study while he was out of town.  I will remember him sitting in the leather rocker recliner he loved so much.  I will remember his laughter and his singing, and how they seemed to fill every room.  I will remember him standing in the doorway watching me as I’d leave after one of our talks…waving goodbye once I was safely in my car.  I will pray, asking God to continue to heal my broken heart and fully restore my joy.  And I will move forward, trusting and giving thanks for this beautiful life which, in spite of the trials, is working out exactly the way it’s supposed to be.  I know Andy would like that.