I’ve been here at Mums seven weeks now, I’ve never felt so tired and lonely but as I lie here in bed with Mitch at the other end with his own pillow. Since December 2017 I’ve recovered from a week in hospital with pneumonia, packed and moved out of my home, my belongings in four different locations, driven over to Spain with a friend signed up on a six month contract on a small two bed bungalow with pool for €250 each. Flue back to the UK for a lung check up, within days of landing I was told my Mum had terminal cancer, obviously I cancelled spain and moved here to stay with mum who passed away two weeks today.
I keep thinking of the blessing in having ten days of looking after mum even though in a hospital bed down stairs we had a little time together with no interference being other family members or alcohol. It was a true blessing after our toxic and manipulative relationship over the last fifty four years the circle is complete.
We met the vicar yesterday that’s leading Mums funeral we covered the service and how it will flow, the Vicar then asked the three of us to come up with an old memory each to add to the service, we have until Monday. I sat there and my mind was a blank, not one nice memory came forward in my mind, this can’t possibly be right!! Other than the ten days of looking after mum before passing to the spirit world.
I must pull myself together, this is not the way forward. I’m flying in nine days with my Granddaughter for ten days, I’m pining innocence, special time with Boo. I’ve neglected her since selling my home, once I arrive back hopefully I will me moving in to number 3. A tiny weeny cottage hidden of the high street. Six months to decide which way to go just sitting still and not running.