Tonight

Yesterday I decided that it's high time that I clean my room. Yup. Room was messy. My bed would be made most everyday, but there was clutter everywhere. I jokingly say that the melancholy in me has decided to take over because the phlegmatic in me has had way too much fun, lol. Seriously, I had to clean my room. Not to mention that I often get on my own kids for their rooms being unacceptable...not talking about that though.

So, yesterday I decided it's high time that I clean my room. I started slow, with a little pile in the corner, and worked my way toward another. Once I got those mostly taken care of (I had made way good headway!) it was time to get ready for work, with intents to finish those piles when I got home. Rest assured, those piles did not just 'move' to another spot in the room - they were taken care of! OH! I also went through one box (Yep, I had THREE boxes in my room that were put there when I moved into this house...TWO YEARS AGO!) (Did I mention that I was going to be vulnerable in this one???)

Today I knew I needed to finish the project, especially since I made a point to call my kids while I was at work and tell them that if their rooms are not taken care of they couldn't have a play-date on Sunday. I needed to make sure that I could have play-dates too ;-). What I didn't know was just how much that would entail. I went through all the boxes and found some things of Joey's that I thought he would love to have in his room. When he came in he saw those things and right away was upset. Those things were matchbox cars that Doug had gotten for Joey in some form or fashion, still in their packaging. That was his moment. Lizzie's came later when I told her that she had to sleep in her own bed that night because my bed was covered with 'clutter'. Mine came after they were in bed as I went through the last box...the box that had all of our (Doug and mine) nightstand things. I knew it would be rough, but I just did it...ripped the band-aid off and did it. And I was fine until I found a photo album that I remembered but I didn't remember what was in it, so I opened it and found that it was full of the comments left on Doug's FaceBook page shortly after his passing. Naturally I started reading them. I was doing great until I came to a dear friend who simply posted the lyrics to the song, "I can only imagine". I lost it for two reasons: one, that song is powerful to me and has so much more meaning than it used to and two, the person who wrote it is a dear friend and I know her heart. After that I couldn't continue reading without shedding more tears.

The moral of this? There comes a time when you realize that you're going to be alright and in that alright-ness you realize it's 'alright' to down-right throw a fit and allow yourself to have a good cry. It was about two hours ago that I went through that album and an hour since I finished my project (OK, it's not completely done! But WELL on it's way and there's no more clutter!) and I'm fine. My Jesus was with me in those moments and reminded me He is ever near ;-)