Generally speaking, the last couple of weeks have been a complete & total diasaster. Certainly, it's all relative. 

This morning I received a large delivery of most of my items that were in storage for the last 15 months. We had planned on keeping them there temporarily until we found a house after the move back to Quebec. Obviously...those plans have changed...and I'm dealing with it. 

But tonight, as I look over at my place. Smelling still of humidity (it's a Montreal thing & im on the ground floor), boxes everywhere, my stuff in boxes and I don't even know where to begin...I'm so incredibly grateful for this:

The linens don't currently match. But it's MY bed. I've been sleeping on my landlord's mattress on the floor...which no matter what I matter how hard I tried to ignore felt like crap physically and emotionally. A mattress on the floor is fine when you're 18 or 19 (or recently separated, apparently). But tonight I sleep on a beautiful mattress, a beautiful bed, with clean, fresh smelling sheets. 

It certainly wasn't cheap getting it here (it's not like in Alberta where every second person has a pickup). But tonight I hope I sleep and dream with the angels in my real, adult, and very own bed.

As a side note, occasionally I've written about my grandfather and his deteriorating health. He's had such a long and very unfair battle. For anyone that knows me...or has ever met him, I'd just like to ask that you keep him in your prayers. May he feel the incredible love that we all have for him and may he feel at peace with the journey he soon will take. 

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