i lived in my house for 51 years and 4 months

[orleans]

9. i'm more of a glass half empty person

and tripping on memory lane and happy times makes me sad they are gone.

i heard a weather report last week saying we were going to get heavy downpours and i was sobbing, thinking of my poor, empty house that had a leak in the roof and i wouldn't be there to put the bucket under it to catch the drips.

i had my daughter contact a neighbor, asking to let her know the day the house is knocked down so i know the day it "dies" and ... so i don't have to worry about it anymore.

it's terrible... that house was a big part of my everything--my life, my identity, my existence.

the other night i was so sad and so angry to be at this new "place" -- i was unpacking some stuff and kept saying over & over "i hate this place" and "this will never be my home."

but tears don't change circumstances. neither do wishes.

i am rather surprised i have lived through all this stress. i'm not sure if it's a good surprise or a bad one.