Processing

On Fridays, barring the unexpected, the boys and I grab some sort of takeout and go over to Dad's to have lunch with him.

We started this many many moons ago when Mom was alive as she loved getting at least one guaranteed chance to spend time with the boys each week. When she passed, it seemed natural enough to keep up with it - and I think we all benefit from it, though our visits are shorter now as Dad is a man of few words and you can see when he's ready to be done with the noise and have us on our way.

I like it because, in addition to my daily calls to him, it gives me a chance to gauge how he's doing. And so I get to see a little insight into how he's dealing with his grief.

My sister cleaned out Mom's closet probably the week after she passed. I thought then (and still do) that it was hasty. Dad didn't object, but then, I don't think there's any circumstance under which he would have. Anytime I say something about sister's choices re: mom's things, he says, "If it helps her grieve let her." And I grumble to myself that helping her grieve shouldn't make it harder for him. But that's Dad.

Slowly, here and there, he's rearranged a few things and gotten rid of a few things. But it's never much at once.

Today he asked me to take photos of mom's dresser with attached mirror and see if there's anyone at church who would want it before he looks into selling it.

I have mixed feelings all around, but I mostly land on the side of being glad that he's making a change to make the bedroom more just his instead of theirs.