By the time I click on the "Publish" box, I will be home again. Bless her cotton socks, Jean has offered to get the slow cooker going, so there will be no need to cook anything, and the house will be warm. Hallelujah.
Leaving here is always a sad event, and tomorrow will be no different. There is the pull to stay and the tug to go. It is not just distance, it is a cultural separation and, most of all, a family one. Different countries. My family has a lot of different countries in its life. Needing to be in one place, wanting to be there. Needing to be in another place. Wanting to be there. Needing......
There is no easy way to say goodbye. Is there ever? And mothers hate saying goodbye. Daughters hate saying goodbye. Sisters hate saying goodbye. Grandchildren hate saying goodbye.
Yes, of course things like Skype help, but it is too easy to disconnect a call when you don't want to talk, and the same with the phone. Sometimes, being there is what is best. And sometimes being there is not ideal.
Oh heavens, I am sounding morbid and depressing, but I hate saying goodbye. This you may have gathered. If not, go back to the top and re-read.
Going home. I must remember I am going home. Jean, my dear friend, lost her mother just after I left, and, while everyone knew it was probable, I just knew it would be while I was away, and not around to be there to support her, as she supported us through so many dark days. I have been so sorry not to be there. Sad for her, and sad I could only help from afar.
Christmas is coming and I worry that my sister won't have any of us here this year. To make the mince pies and custies and roast a chicken with stuffing. Well, of course her husband will be here, but he is not a fan of the mince pies!
I know this is all silly. But it is the mood right now, as midnight approaches, and the fact that I will have to unpack the suitcase and repack leaving most of the things in it behind, so I can fit in Billy's new wardrobe, assorted other essentials like chocolate and angels, and metal ladies in rocking chairs. I nearly forgot them, and that would have been a disaster. And of course we will be back. And of course the world will keep turning. And of course there is so much to look forward to in the coming weeks, and Christmas is coming, and I have no decorations up yet and there is stuff to bake and things to make and parcels to wrap and post and trees to decorate........
And it is a season to be filled with wonder and awe, after all. I always remember that. It is just right now. Tomorrow. Soon to be today.
My head hurts.
Snow is still falling gently.
Why can't we all live around the corner from each other?
Actually (she says, pulling herself up by the bootstraps) being here is a calm period for me. The phone rings but it is unlikely to be for me. I don't have any post to open, lawyers to talk to, or diaries to consult. And I really need a break from those pressures now and then, believe me. The stairs here are easier to climb, and there is space in hallways so I don't bump into things. And, ironically, this village centre is flat, even here inthe valley up in the mountains. Walking about is relatively uncomplicated, given that there are benches wherever you look! Ah, the things which become important as one gets more creaky and notsoyoungafterall any more. Groan.
Right. I need to sink into the deep and wonderful bath of hot water now for the last time this trip, and then flop into bed with my book and gather strength for the epic trip home. Trains, planes and automobiles. They are not so much fun any more. I really need teleporting to be perfected asap. If all the other science fiction things like computers and phones and the like are common now, why isn't teleporting?? I suspect the airline giants may be responsible. It is already tomorrow. Today. And tonight I will be asleep in my own bed in my house.
Over and out, for now, my friends.................