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For the past few weeks I’ve had this overwhelming feeling of being tired of grieving. Tired of missing Michael. Tired of what my life is now without him. Not that it’s bad or terrible, but I get tired of being without him. Of wishing he were here.

I just decided to stop the whole thing. Stop grieving. Stop missing. I’ve floated into and out of anger. I’ve put my wedding rings back on and taken them off and put them back on.

I spent weeks avoiding the void. Whenever I wanted to cry I would think, “I’m just sick of that. I don’t want to.” And I wouldn’t.

Then yesterday, for whatever reason, I looked up the address of our house in Texas. And it had been sold by the woman who bought it from us and it was on Trulia. The house was beautiful and near perfect when we sold it, but she put all hardwoods, redid the kitchen cabinets and counters and built a stunning deck and put in a magnificent garden path down to the woods.
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