Dealing with life since my parents' housefire and subsequent health issues has been extremely challenging for them, for me and Mike, and for my brother and his wife. Today I went to the restoration company to load our van with boxes of Mom and Dad's stuff that has been cleaned and now must be sorted through and dealt with. When I saw the number of boxes, I was overwhelmed, depressed, and a little hopeless. I have no desire to sort through all this stuff and no idea what we're going to do with it all. It looked like a mountain of responsibility that will take lots of time and energy, and handling all these memories makes me very sad.

Mike met me there after work and helped load the boxes and provide moral support. I was so relieved to see him walk in the door. He helped unload the van and pile up boxes in the garage. Then he turned on some music, untaped boxes for me to go through, took away empty boxes, and helped me organize piles. He stayed with me for hours, providing just the support I needed, and I'm so grateful. He looked at pictures, listened to stories, and entertained me by reading aloud a treasure I found in one of the boxes: my brother's autobiography he wrote in fourth grade. This part had us both laughing:

One night when I was two years old I woke up crying and sat up in bed and said, "Mommy, Mommy, big bug on my jammies" and tried to brush it off. Then I lay back down and went to sleep.

I got a lot done and am feeling more hopeful that someday this whole nightmare will end.

Labor Day Hike

Decent weather on a holiday requires a hike. So this morning Mike and I went to Farmdale, parked in the  already crowded lot, and dropped a pin on the map. I've never, not once, hiked at Farmdale and not gotten lost, and I've learned from experience to drop a pin before hitting the trails. 

Most people seemed to be headed toward the woods trails, so we headed towards the creek. There were some people at the creek, so we crossed it, hiked awhile, and crossed it again until we were way out where very few people go. Good thing, because by then the temperature was getting warmer, the effort of the hike was heating me up, and I was having a hot flash, so I took off my shirt. I had to put it back on briefly a couple times when we encountered a pack of mountain bikers and some hikers, including one premenopausal young woman wearing a jacket. 

We fantasized about being on "Alone", "Last of the Mohicans" and Wuhu Island (from a Wii game), and we reminisced about previous hikes and adventures. We stopped several times to close our eyes and just listen. We came to a little metal bridge over a stream, and I noticed that when I stepped on it, it sounded like my steel drum, so I danced on it, trying to sound different notes, but they all sounded the same. Still, dancing shirtless on a bridge in the midst of nature is reward enough in itself.

We saw two white Yellow Woolly Bear Moths (why do they have the word "yellow" in their name when they are pure white?" and I picked some Indiangrass to bring home for the cats to chew on and play with, and so I can plant some of the seeds.  I wouldn't mind our whole yard being filled with prairie grasses and herbs. 

They did enjoy smelling and chewing on the tall grasses from the wild outdoors.

                                        

It sure felt like more than 10,447 steps. It was a near perfect hike though, just a little too warm.