I let the lid come off…
No matter how good we are at trying to keep it all together, sometimes the lid falls off. That so preciously closed pot of feelings opens and it all spills over.
This happened last night.
And you know what triggered it? My bedroom was, until now, relatively untouched. Now my bookshelf, for all my treasured non-fiction books, had walked out of the door and was replaced by moving boxes, which had nothing else in other than papers from the past, ready to be burnt.
I’d packed up the birthday candles. I knew that I was going to use them on my son’s cake, on the day we leave. We are leaving on his birthday.
He is a grown man and has a family of his own. I will miss them like mad. I suddenly started to really face that reality.
It does help me a little that they will be moving into my house. I feel that the 18-month battle to get the house into my name has had some use now, for them.
At times when we are sad, it helps to find some joy and that is giving me joy.
Don’t get me wrong, I am so excited to move to the UK and to be reunited with my girls. My heart could jump out of my chest with joy.
There is a lot to do still and to get my precious 15-year-old girl to pause, from visiting/phoning friends in every free minute, just to not miss anybody is a task of its own. As much as I can understand her, her typical teenage room needs to somehow get sorted out.
I will love and leave you for today. Until next time.