The Crawlspace

        Under the heavy plywood cover in the closet is the opening to the crawlspace 

where my supplies wait in cardboard boxes labeled correspondence, family photos, 

genealogy, tax returns, and journals.

       I don’t know when I will bring the boxes out of storage.  My intention was to start

 this year but that is changed.  Perhaps next year I begin my project to tell a story of 

my family using these supplies to document and illuminate the past. 

 

        Now we are away from home, in Jacksonville, Florida living with our daughter 

and grandson.  We came here January 23, 2023 because on January 18th 

our son-in-law was taken out of his home in handcuffs.  It is likely he will not be seen 

again by any of us for many years, if ever.  None of us would have imagined he could

 have committed such a crime.

        The crime detail is not for me to tell. Daughter and grandson are doing very well 

after weeks of shock and disbelief.   Divorce has been filed, terms agreed upon 

courteously. The finality of the divorce will mark the beginning for our daughter's 

next decisions.  How to afford to stay in this house?  What to do if that isn't possible? 

Where to live? How to be a single parent with no child support income?  How to 

afford childcare? 

 

         The legal side of things regarding son-in-law is a fascinating process.  I am 

learning about arraignment, court decorum, public defenders, prosecution, discovery,

plea bargaining, detention center rules.  The end of this legal process will be when a 

sentence is handed down.  Until that time there is waiting.

 

        It is as if we had opened a crawlspace cover and descended into safe clean quiet

 space below ground where we can sit and move about but we cannot stand.  The light

 is adequate but not sufficient.  The air is cool but there is no movement.  The days 

and nights come and go but nothing remarkable occurs.  

 

        We are glad for each other. We would be just as glad to get on with our individual 

lives.   We take care of school, work, eating, and sleeping.  Life feels less than 

ordinary.  We wait for processes to play out for which there are neither instructions

nor experience. 

        There is only waiting.