I was looking at my site stats this morning, and saw that someone had been to an old post, Cracked Veneer. I recognized the title, but couldn’t recall what it was about, so I clicked. There are always old posts listed in the stats that people have happened upon, and I never take particular notice or click, so I don’t know why I noticed or clicked today. You can read the post for yourself if you like, but the synopsis is that I had a complete blubbering meltdown at the FedEx office because I needed a witness to sign a form related to resolving my father’s estate after he committed suicide in 2010.
He’s been on my mind lately because in a couple of weeks, I’m tentatively planning to drive to Texas to finally clear out the storage unit where the last of his belongings have been locked up for the last 3 1/2 years. Over the course of three car trips I made during the year after his death, I managed to bring back all the smaller stuff that had been packed in boxes. The furniture is all that remains. There isn’t much – his bedroom set, and my great-grandmother’s antique dining room set. It’s the stuff I kept for its high sentimental value. For the last three years, we’ve delayed and debated whether to hire movers or do it ourselves, but we finally settled on using movers. I need to go down there, coordinate that, and close out the storage unit account.
After already having a lot of mixed, complicated feelings about this whole moving thing, completing this last phase of settling all the practical issues related to his death, and the somewhat disorienting prospect of having his furniture in my house, I lost it when I read that old post this morning. It all feels raw. Really raw. Like the veneer is cracking again.
This evening, I saw someone posted that today is World Suicide Prevention Day. I knew that, but had forgotten – the way you know it’s a birthday or anniversary, but you forget until someone is like, hey, today is blah-blah day. Then you’re like, oh, right, I totally knew that, but it didn’t occur to me. Perhaps my subconscious sent me clicking to that old blog post this morning to remind my conscious mind of something it didn’t want to recognize.
I have a million swirling, knotted thoughts, but I don’t really have words to put all this together anymore than what I’ve shared here. Thankfully, 30x30x30 compelled me to make art, and although my trip to Texas will linger into October, most of it will be in September, so 30x30x30 will accompany me for most of the way. I’m a little concerned about getting art done on my driving days – two 12-hour days behind the wheel, each way – but based on how I felt today, I think I’m going to need this.