V and I have been staying at my dad’s this weekend, dog sitting. He’s gone for a few days away in Denmark, to visit his sister. I think the time away will do him good, and I’m sure he’ll be glad to have his first solo trip under his belt. He and my mum travelled a lot together, especially over the last few years, and it would be sad to think he’d give that up.
It’s funny, being in this house without her here. It doesn’t feel like her home anymore. It feels like just dad’s house. I think because things are just ever so slightly different, he’s not as tidy and although he keeps it clean, it’s just not ‘mum’ clean. It doesn’t have the same feel, the same warmth. I think something about the fridge not being full and the kettle not being on constantly. The house just felt so much more full of life when mum was here, maybe because the tv was always on, there were always lights on - the under counter lights in the kitchen etc, where my dad only has on the lights in the room he’s in.
He’s doing amazingly, keeping the house, considering he’s always been the one out working long hours and it’s always been done for him. Don’t get me wrong, he can do it, cook and iron and all the rest, he just didn’t, mum was a stay at home mum for the most part, with some part time, school hour jobs when we were kids so she was around for teatime and homework and all the rest of it.
But it’s quite hard being here, knowing she’s gone. These are the things you don’t even think about grieving. All the little things that don’t cross your mind. You know you’ll miss the person, their physical presence, being able to talk to them and share your lives. I never imagined how it would feel to be in the house knowing that she’ll never be here again, that slowly, over time, it’ll feel even less and less like there’s any of her here. Everything in the house at the moment is hers, that she’s chosen. Except the settee, my dad chose that and it’s horrendously uncomfortable and nearly ended in divorce! It’s only a matter of time before things change, and that’s fine, it has to happen, that’s progress, it’s just not something I’d really thought about up until now.
I miss her desperately. On the days V is being extra tricky, and she’s 3 so it’s pretty much every day, I know that mum would have known what to say. Even if she had no actual practical advice in the moment, she would have known what to say to make me feel better about it at least. I’m heartbroken that she died just weeks before V started nursery, before we would have had more time to spend just the two of us, having a hot cuppa and an uninterrupted chat.
We’ve booked a holiday for the summer, me and V, my dad, my sister, brother in law and my nephew. It’s going to be lovely, we’ve booked a villa with a pool. Of course, there will be many moments where we get a little tears eyed, we’d talked so many times about how nice this type of holiday would be and how we should try to arrange it once Covid allowed. Mum would have loved to have seen them running round and swimming and thoroughly enjoying themselves.
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