Climbing out of the abyss?

October 2020!!  I cannot believe that I have let my blog stagnate for 2 ½ years.  That is until I realised that I had plummeted into depression and self-pity over the way my life had changed and felt that there was nothing worth writing about anymore.  So where do I begin?  Or rather where did I end before this new beginning?

 In October 2020 I wrote about a conversation with my Mother regarding her experiences during World War Two.  It gave me an insight into her youth, her relationship with my Father and the reasoning behind some of her characteristic behaviour.  Likewise with my Father who having a similar experience of losing a parent at a young age they had this common denominator even though not much else in common.

 But I digress as this does not explain my lack of blogging.

 They say grief hits you in very personal and different ways.  My grief multiplied as each one died:

 One of my besties, Millie, only 8 years older than me and who had suddenly deteriorated.

·         My Mum – a victim of COVID and far away from us so that she died alone in a hospital bed as we were in lockdown and by the time it was serious enough for us to be allowed to see her it was too late because of the travel time.

·         My furry soul mate rescue dog, Freddy, we had all been through so much and he was my treasured friend, from being a playmate to our other young dog to having to be put to sleep all within 3 days.  I held him and talked to him telling him everything was going to be alright as they gave him the injection.  As his head slowly lowered a part of me went with him.

And then, not a death, but the dying and changing of my relationship with my husband, lover and best friend.  Nothing was the same, everything was turned around.  I was no longer a wife but a mother, a carer, housekeeper, handyman, cook, gardener, decorator, worker (to finance all that State Pensions would not provide) and anything else that needed to be done.  Life as I knew it no longer existed and my world was confined to four walls,

 I felt broken and alone.

 Following grief we react in strange, uncharacteristic ways…  I moved house.  I no longer wanted to remain in the other house, I wanted to leave behind the pain, I wanted to provide a home that would be more suited to my husband’s needs.  But all it did was put us at risk of being in debt as it became obvious just how much work needed to be done on the house. 

 I had run away into more trouble than it was worth.  So my solution was to move again.

 For 7 months the house was on the market and I watched as my savings dwindled away.  In the end reducing the price drastically and swallowing the amount that I had already put into the house we have got a sale.

 A sale to a smaller more easily managed property and this brings us into the present.  Solicitors are instructed and the wait begins as the amount of paperwork is undertaken and the searches etc. are done.

 I hope that this property will be our final home, our final destination, and that some form of happiness can be found.