...because the word exhausted just doesn't define it well enough...
At this point in "life post-Dad," the catharsis has past and been replaced with something else...I'm not sure what, but I experienced it this past weekend, as we set out our belongings for strangers to paw through and run off with, for pennies on the dollar. There was an initial feeling of violation, coupled with that fear of change feeling, because of course, we wouldn't be doing this if we didn't have to...in Lyons utopia, Dad's still with us and the garage isn't an issue. The misanthropy I felt had to be curbed fast though, because in spite of the early rain, folks showed up in droves Saturday morning and there was no time for emotion. We made enough on Saturday alone to almost fully finance Mom's move, and it's a good thing, because we learned that Southerners don't tag sale on Sunday. I guess between church and football season, driving around looking for deals takes a backseat. I wish we'd made more money of course, but I was so exhausted Sunday, it was hard to care.
The new owners of Mom's house want the cabinets that we couldn't unload, as well as the radial arm saw. That's a relief, as we'd rather that went to someone who'll use it, rather than donate it somewhere where it could be trashed for appearing obsolete. It's a 35 year old saw probably, but it still works. The pile of stuff we dragged down to the end of the driveway for the neighborhood vultures to pick over was remarkably small, though my car is stuffed with junk to go to Goodwill in the next day or two, plus some more stuff for Chamblin's.
I'm tired. Haven't knitted in a week and the apartment is trashed...will start picking through stuff in another day or two, creating my own piles for Goodwill.