We moved house on the 1st of August 2010, to the day the 4 year anniversary of his mom’s passing. We acknowledged that she would have been so happy for us, and yet in reality she would have been clutching at her heart again as she watched the next few months unfold.
Moving into a bigger house I went into full ‘project’ mode. I am not one that can sit around in clutter and putz about while I figure out where things go. I had a picture in my mind’s eye months prior about where each piece of furniture and knickknacks would be perfectly positioned.
I would tackle room by room, starting with the girls bedrooms with their input so that they had their own new personal domain that they felt ownership of and comfort within.
I tried to get Mort involved in the same way, but since he never really offered to help, I stopped asking for input. Every now and then he would try to move something after I had placed it, I would move it back. I would try to give him ‘outside man jobs’ so at least he had something to do, though more often than not I would have to go back and respray the mealie bugs because he had done such a crap job.
The new king-sized bed was ideal, there was already distance between us and that just gave us another 20″ of separation.