The rain fell steadily for the sixth weekend in a row as I headed towards my parents’ former home. I started to wonder if the droplets of water were my mother and father’s tears from heaven. A sign that are displeased that their home and everything would soon be no more. Or, I thought, perhaps it’s a symbol of what I’m feeling; that time is washing away the family that I once knew.

I was soggy, tired and achy after my hour and 15 minute drive but I had to stop for more death certificates and estate documents before I could get to work packing.

I sat in a half empty house three hours sorting through the linens, kitchen items, a china cabinet and my parents’ former bedroom. At the bottom of the same drawer with my baby book I discovered that my mother saved old cards and letters that I’d sent over the years.

My chest began to feel heavy and a deep sorrow overtook me.

“I can’t do this,” I mumbled.

I began scrolling though my email to distract myself from my present circumstances. Among the notes,I found an interview request.

“Between work, clearing the house, administering the estate, my health appointments and my husband’s medical issues, I don’t have time.”

Just as I said that, I looked over and saw a framed print of a mother and a child, when I moved it, I found clippings from my old press appearances for my books in a neat pile.

“Okay mom, I’ll do it.”

So, I sat for a podcast interview on my lunch hour during work. Here it is: https://ghlf.org/the-health-advocates/

Or you can click on the audio file:

https://ghlf.egnyte.com/dl/M3zwvppzvx

chronicillness #spoonie #autoimmunedisease #grief #loss #parents @creaky_joints