Keeping things in the family

I've been using a dead man's dish soap for the last six months. Some people may be uncomfortable knowing someone died in their house. I actually know the exact day that Barry died in this house last March and can only assume he died in his bedroom, which is now our den. We had already looked at the house to buy it when Barry thought he was going to recover from his cancer but didn't need such a large home. And his sister-in-law Anne was the real estate agent who worked with us again after it was Barry's estate that was selling the house. We're the first family other than Barry and his parents to ever live in this home. When his brother Kevin (the executor of the estate and Anne's husband) handed over the keys to us at the signing, the key ring had their family crest on it.

Because they wanted to sell the property so fast (I assume to help pay off his medical bills), it was only about 30 days from when we first agreed to buy the house to when we were closing on it and signing papers. Barry had lived in the house for many years and had accumulated a lot of stuff. Even with his fastidious nature, there were lots of things to donate or sell or remove. We ended up buying a home that had a lot more "extras" to it than anything brand new.

There's a beautiful mahogany-framed mirror Anne said I could keep. We got an extra push mower out of the deal. I have a new butter dish from Barry and several glass corn on the cob plates (which I didn't even know they made but can't wait to use this summer). Barry collected matches (as any chain smoker might do) and we have the giant plastic tub of them to prove it. We got a large fire safe that works much better than the tiny one we owned. And the number of yard tools in the garage would rival our local hardware store!

All of these things please me. They remind me of Barry, a man I actually never met other than through a few old photos I found in the attic. They remind me of his parents and how they built this home for themselves and their six children. They make me think that in some ways we're keeping Barry's memory around this house.

When we had our Nosy Neighbor Open House, we invited Anne and Kevin back to see what we'd changed. As they walked around the house, Anne started to cry. She smiled and said that when they were dating they used to sit on the side porch and listen to the radio and she's so glad we kept the side porch in all our renovations. I told her that's why I wanted her and Kevin to come back. I wanted him to see that the room Kevin waited for Santa in was still there and one day someone else might wait for Santa in it. I wanted him to see that all we did was make some updates and a few changes but we kept their home intact and would take good care of it.

Barry never got a chance to see what we did with this house after he was gone. But I think of him often as I wander around the house and we talk about him as if he's part of our extended family.

"Where did these books come from? Oh, right, they're Barry's." "I'm going to use Barry's mower to edge the yard." "I think Barry left us a spare valve for the furnace's gas line, I just have to find it." "Let's give Barry's grill to the neighbors. It's a lot nicer than theirs and we don't need it."

I just used up the last of Barry's dish soap last week and while it wasn't my favorite brand, I was a little sad to see it go. The greatest thing you can hope for after you're gone is that people will remember you. We never met, Barry, but I remember you and your family fondly.

Wake me up before you go

I'm writing this post on my iPhone in bed. I'm wearing my jammies and will most likely go to sleep as soon as I post this. It's barely 8:30pm. Monday I decided to try to limit my caffeine. It's a bit of an experiment since Rich has commented several times about how addicted to it he is. I'm that person who can drink an espresso and then go to bed, so I never thought I was really affected by it. But now I'm starting to wonder.

I have had a cup of chai tea on Monday and a glass of iced tea yesterday and today at lunch. Every other drink has been water. I have also gone to bed by 9pm every night this week.

The good news is after 10 hours of sleep I'm ready to go in the mornings. The bad news is I'm not getting shit done besides showing up to work and feeding myself. I haven't even washed any of my clothes. I may run out of clean underwear before this trial is over. I miss my husband because I hardly see him before I'm heading to bed. I feel for those who do shift work and feel like they're missing out on so many things.

My weekly journal that logs what I do every day has been pretty sparse this week, so there hasn't been much to write about. Here's hoping I make it over this hump and have more to talk about soon. Until then, I'm snuggling under the covers for the evening.

Recap of the inaugural Living Out Loud project: an Open Love Letter

Well, 5pm came and went on Sunday and I call this first project a success. Sure it would have been great if there were 50 entries, but that might have overwhelmed me. All told there were six entries plus my own. I'll list them below with links. Ben's Love Letter to his wife Megan My favorite part of his letter was the line that "the very act of writing this letter gives me a feeling of warmth." Me too, Ben.

Megan's Open Love Letter to my Son This entry made me cry. I haven't gotten to meet Ace in person yet, but I feel for her frustration at not really understanding what goes on in his head but wanting more than anything to be on his team.

K's Sometimes things don't turn out the way we want I knew K was a good writer, but this really blew me away. I'm now going to impatiently stomp my feet until she creates a blog and keeps writing. Feel free to comment to her on the page with her entry.

Liz's Love Letter - of Sorts The fact that Liz participated in general meant a lot to me. She doesn't have a blog but wrote hers out longhand and then transcribed it into an email to send to me. I'm honored to host it for her. She reached out to so many deserving people. Again, feel free to comment to her on the page with her entry.

Kim's Dear Mom I have known Kim and her mom for many years and this also brought tears to my eyes. Kim and I talked at length on Friday night about all kinds of things and one subject was that we both talk about our dads a lot more than our moms online. I think this letter was a fine tribute to a not often mentioned force in her life.

Rich's Love means never having to make a savings throw Rich told me once that his teacher gave the class an assignment to write a letter to their favorite author. I think the teacher hoped to mail them away and get responses, thereby encouraging reading. Rich wrote this long tribute to JRR Tolkein and his teacher had to explain that Tolkein was dead. Rich was crushed. I'm glad he could continue his pattern of writing letters to dead men. I'm also not upset that Rich decided to write a letter to a gaming nerd instead of me because there are countless things he does for me that show me he loves me every day, the majority of which would earn him a restraining order if he tried them on famous authors.

Lastly, my contribution was in the form of an Open Love Letter to my Husband. It's no secret that I'm quite fond of Rich, but I wanted to try to count a few of the reasons why.

I hope that you all enjoy these letters that everyone wrote. It was a lot of fun for me personally. While it wasn't necessarily about any prize, I did want the opportunity to pick out one entry with a reward for the hard work. I'm pleased to say that K will receive a Flickr pro account for one year as thanks.

Thank you so much for participating, either by submitting an entry, pondering what you might like to write one day or just enjoying what others wrote. Now to decide what our project will be for this month!