The House

If you are friends with Stefan or me on Facebook, you know that our house is undergoing a major renovation.  We signed on our house in April 2000, when Maggie was three weeks old, and moved in when she was five weeks old (moving with a newborn helps if you don’t want to do any of the lifting).  Over the years, we haven’t done much.  The biggest project before this was tearing down our old detached garage so we had more yard for the kids.

Stefan has wanted to add on to the house for years.  Last year, it finally happened.  We had gone before the zoning board in 2016 and were approved for an addition, and work started last summer.  From the outside, the addition looks like a whole other house, but it’s not as big inside since it includes an attached garage, which is pretty big.

So, by winter, the addition was in place and we just left it as it was–a garage, a large open room on the second floor, and then a bonus third floor half-room we like to call The Penthouse.  When spring arrived, it was time to work some magic inside…put up walls, make decisions on use of the space.  Well, our house is old.  Like 1890s old.  At least the original portion of the house is.  While we didn’t do much to it over the last 18 years, previous owners did make some changes.  When Stefan started working on getting the addition to flow with the rest of the house, he realized there were some serious structural issues.  Oh, and some squirrel carcasses.

The kids, the dogs, and I have been staying at my mom’s since Mother’s Day.  We are so thankful and lucky to have a place that’s close to home and school to stay.  Initially, Stefan told me to pack until Tuesday.  Well, it’s been more than a month of Tuesdays, but the end seems to be in sight.  For much of the last few weeks I have stayed away from our deconstruction zone.  When I go, I get sad.  I cry.  Stefan thinks there’s something wrong with the house, and doesn’t understand why I’m upset.  I should be over the moon to soon have a practically brand new house, but all I can think when I walk around is that it’s not her house anymore.  The stairs she would bound down, all gangly and goofy, are gone.  Her posters, which she hung and were supposed to stay, ended up coming down so the plaster could be replaced.  The floors she walked on are mostly gone.

Some bereaved families move after the death of their child.  The memories are too much, too sad.  For me, being able to picture her in our house was comforting.  Now, it will be like we moved, but without changing our address.  I know Maggie is always with us.  I know it doesn’t matter where we are or where we live, but for me, it’s just one more thing.  One more change she’s not here for.  One more reminder that she’s not here (not that I need any reminders).  One more thing to grieve.

We plan to have an open house when everything is done, so friends and family can see the fruits of Stefan’s labor and vision.  I know it will be amazing when complete, but it will take awhile for me to adjust.

 

Emotional Exhaustion

I don’t remember when I was last as exhausted as I have been this week.  I fell asleep on the couch by 5:30 yesterday, and slept like the dead until 10:00 last night.  I ate cereal for dinner at 10:30.  I did start to doze again, waiting for the kids to come in, then went to bed for real around midnight.  I’m only up now because the dogs insisted I get up.

Last Sunday was our fifth Mag-a-Palooza.  We couldn’t have custom ordered better weather–it was certainly the best we’ve had.  So many wonderful people came out to hear great music and help us celebrate our girl.  I always hope that people learn a little something about childhood cancer too.  We send a HUGE thanks to everyone who came.

In April, Central chose Maggie’s Beat to support for Central Runs.  The Student Council presented us with the check from that on Sunday.  An astonishing $1231.10 was raised by the students via donations and sponsors.  These are awesome kids!

Thursday night, I attended Central’s Scholarship Night to present the Maggie’s Beat Scholarship we awarded to a member of what should be Maggie’s graduating class.  We received nine essays.  A few of the kids obviously knew Mags, and reading what they wrote about her was such an amazing bonus.  Memories of our kind, carefree girl are always welcome.  The winner of the scholarship (students used their school ID on them, rather than their names, so we were not immediately biased) was a former classmate of Maggie’s.  It just made it extra special that he knew her.

Friday was Class Day for the Class of 2018.  We were invited to attend, because the class officers were going to honor Maggie and had a gift for us.  As the graduates, in their caps and gowns, walked across the courtyard a strange mixture of sadness and pride washed over me.  Sadness, obviously, because my Margaret should be with them, but pride because this is such a truly amazing class of young adults.  These are special kids, who remember their friend, gone too soon.  We received a Senior t-shirt with Philbrook 18 on the back, and it’s probably the best gift I’ve ever been given.

Maggie’s class graduates at 6:00 this evening.  Lydon and Molly will be there to play with the band.  I plan to go.  As always, I will have a plan for an “out,” if needed.  That’s one of the things that is always required for bereaved parents since we never really know how we’ll react in certain situations.  I feel like I need to be there.  I need to be there for Maggie.  I need to be there to support the great kids who are going to change the world for the better.  I need to be there for myself.

So, all of this has led to the extreme emotional exhaustion I’m feeling.  It’s a real thing, and becomes physical.  Oh, one other thing.  The pendant gifted to me when Maggie died with a Flashes of Hope photo of Maggie and me broke yesterday.  I’ve been wearing it everyday for four years.  It was wearing at the spot the necklace met the “loop,” so I knew it was only a matter of time before it wore through.  Coincidence that it happened right at graduation time?  I doubt it.