Hmmm, where to start?
A visit from my parents. This brings every emotion going really. Guilt at not being there where they are most of the time. Relief, at not being where they are. Nostalgia for times gone by, whimsy for things which might have been. Rage at my mother for oh, so many things, acceptance, again mostly directed towards my mother. Frustration – albeit a mostly vicarious emotion at them for not appreciating what they have, for not making proper choices while they still had time. A bit of rage, for the injustice – mostly now on Scarlett’s behalf as Davies is once again feted as king of the world while she is sidelined so blatantly. Tenderness for them with their faults and foibles and failings and for being merely human, no more, no less. For being the people who made me and therefore all of us, for what they have given and continue to give.
Wish she’d listened to me and bought more fruit and vegetables with them though…
Davies was 16. This feels huge, so huge I have not yet properly digested it. I have written over on the other blog. I intend writing more.
Ady and I celebrated 17 years as Mr and Mrs. The world around us feels filled with many less compatible life partners. I am unsure as to whether to feel smug, fortunate or an uncomfortable combination.
News of another couple I didn’t really know but was aware of parting. This both rocks and steadies my world.
Our new car arrived. Everything crossed this car will take me and the kids all the way south next month having taken all four of us further north and west the week previously, pushing the geographical boundaries of the UK ever further. It will offer freedom, a taste of the mainland and a further step back towards our old lives. Is this the first step back? The first step towards moderation? I don’t know.
Not Back to School and the start of the final school year for Davies’ peers has niggled at me in some unspoken way I am unable to articulate. My Mum asked me this week what I would have changed about Davies and Scarlett’s education if I’d known then what I know now. My reply was instant and without consideration. Having pondered further since it remains the same.
Anyway, all of that. I am not sleeping well. I am desperate for our holiday in three weeks, convinced it will not run to plan. I said to Ady earlier than in a weird way I almost want it to be over and done with so that I can stop stressing about whether it will all go smoothly. Surely that defies the very definition of a holiday?