There has been so much work to do. We were in the middle of a move across the Puget Sound. Rachel and I had already moved to the new place. Mike's stuff was still, for the most part, in Redmond. I can never express enough gratitude for the many hours of donated time my friends and family gave. Four of us spent one day sitting on the bedroom floor going through stacks and stacks of papers that Mike had pushed under our bed. We had to decipher between what was garbage and what was important to keep. Another friend helped go through his business office to help us decide what to pack and what to chuck. Several other friends stopped by to help with his garage and that business. It took weeks.
There was one day I had been at the Redmond house too long. It was close to midnight and Jeffrey was going through Mike's business stuff with a family friend. I decided to go through Mike's briefcase. While looking in it I found a letter I had written Mike back in about 2001. It wasn't a mean letter, but it expressed how frustrated I had been with "us." Every relationship needs to work out the kinks and we hadn't been taking the time to talk. I couldn't believe he still had the letter and carried it in the briefcase he used on a daily basis. I wondered how often he had recently read it and if it added to his recent feelings of hopelessness.
Without saying a word, I grabbed my stuff and bolted out the door. I just ran. At least I was running in the right direction of the home we were staying in. It was only about a mile away. About half way there I realized how late it was and that I was out alone. I called my kids to let them know I was alright. That was just one of the times picking up the pieces became more then I could handle.