5 months.

That is how long it has been since I posted last. On February 18th I posted a blog entitled “Changes”. I talked about the boxes and striking a balance between preparing to leave while still needing to be in the space. I shared the discomfort of all the things I didn’t know and trusting God to handle it and…

9 days later my brother died.

And everything I thought I was moving toward lay on his floor not breathing.

I didn’t talk about that part, that I was radically downsizing so I could move from a 1600 sq.ft. house into a bedroom at my brother’s so I could cook, take care of the house, help with transportation to medical appointments, and be present to share life as his health declined and his ability to live became smaller.

Then there was no life to share.

On March 4th instead of cooking for him and freezing meals so he had things to eat between my trips over, I gathered with a gloriously diverse group of people, and we celebrated the life my brother created, the lives he impacted, and the beautiful person he was. 

I went home with a box of books, pictures, and items chosen to share pieces of his life…and a lot of questions about what his passing meant for my life.

I spent March packing his personal things in his home and completely packing mine. I moved his stuff to the garage or to a storage unit, and I moved my stuff to his house. I am not sure which was worse: emptying the house of his things or moving into a house that was empty of him. Both are horrible.

Then in May I made daily trips to help my daughter and her roommates purge , pack, and prepare to move 12 hours away. For over two years, they had lived up the street from me. For a year and a half, I had the pleasure of eating lunch with my daughter every Tuesday. We played games or talked. We rolled life around between us and found a way to be an adult daughter and a supportive mom. For the last four autumns, we had attended high school football games together, and once a month or more we ordered out lunch and spent hours painting crafts at my dining table.  

And then we didn’t.

I stood in the street watching the moving truck pull out of view, feeling so proud of her courage and adventurous spirit…and feeling like the last recognizable piece of my life was gone.

I drove the hour home into a life of After…and Before.

After all the changes that leave gaping empty space…Before the empty space finds its purpose and begins to flourish again.

The grief is real, and the loss is real. 
The tears fall often.
Life is real, and my faith is real.
The laughter comes more than the tears.

The empty space is still so loud with all that is missing, but I still hear its whispers of possibilities of what is to come. 

It’s a strange place to be.

But that is where I am.

Five months after the “Changes”…in the After…and Before.

Jerri Kelley is a mom of two amazing young people, a follower of Christ, and a fierce believer in the power of love and hope. Once again she finds herself in weird transition, letting go of things that are past, but believing in the adventure that is still to come. 🙂