This is a rather poignant post today as not only is it my Great Aunt’s birthday (she died 2 days before) but as I type this a good friend of mine is helping her husband (an only child)pack up his mother’s house. After a short illness she passed away sooner than expected and with them living at opposite ends of the country it has added another layer of stress to an already highly emotive situation. As a blended family of four they are all mucking in but, another close friend in our whatsapp group did ask if there was not anyone else who could assist. A genuine question and, one that I feel always highlights the ever shrinking family. On a slight tangent I read an article this week that in London especially (where birth rates are falling higher than anywhere else in the UK ) couples are actively choosing to have only one child, for numerous reasons all valid and ultimately coming down to the ever rising cost of living and providing a balanced family life for everyone within that family unit. But, it does open the question of who is/will be there???
For me, being that last leaf hanging I had to rustle up some of my dear friends all of whom I’m sure had better things to do with their weekends than go through 85 years of life and some random tat! Unlike my DF and her DH, my mum was in social housing meaning that I had 4 weeks from the day she died in which to arrange her funeral, clear out her flat, decide what I was and was not going to keep, and make good any damage. No mean feat I can tell you and, one that could see a solo next of kin following their dearly departed!
As a result I still have a storage unit – 4 years later containing many things that I’m slowly whittling down along with my bank balance, I hasten to add it is expensive to keep a metal box. Without the assistance of my friends I would have been STUCK! There is another word for it to remove the ST add an F and ends with ED – worked it out yet??
Which going back to the situation currently faced by my DF and the recent article I read re shrinking families and the fact that newer generations are more likely to live further away from their parents poses the question if I’d lived 200 miles from my mum and not 2 how would I have managed the 4 week deadline? I only received 5 days compassionate leave from my employer and, as my mum so inconveniently chose to pass towards the end of my holiday year I would have found myself with word beginning with F and ending ED! Afterall it would have been rather entitled of me to expect my friends to take time out and drag themselves 200 miles!
It is a sad but true fact that when all is said and done the physical element of our loved ones lives can be put into boxes and, with a final turn of a key something more akin to a novel rather than a chapter of our lives closes.
I recall the day I stood in my mum’s empty flat with the housing manager and handed back to keys confirming that I had taken the final meter readings and fed them back to the utilities companies. In all honestly I didn’t have any emotions as I walked out the door for the last time. I can say hand on heart that, that flat had never been my mum’s home she went there once social services finally agreed she required 24 hour care and due to her declining health we – she never got to really personalise it. On many levels I wish she had as I will always feel some guilt that the last years of her life were to all intents and purposes in a grander hospital like setting (she did have a hospital bed – another thing to have to organise the return of) but, at the same time it was far easier to walk away from a property of no lasting memories than it would have been from her previous flat (we had left the family home over 2 decades before) where I still had fond memories of dinners and nights watching TV, chatting and laughing, crying and shouting and everything in between.
If, on reading this dear reader you feel my tone has changed from previous posts indeed it has. The reason is not AI, the reason is, that after 15 weeks of therapy I am finally starting to feel more like me and as a result expressing myself more. I will likely revisit earlier posts and inject more ‘me’ into them. Whilst my Line Manager is unlikely to read this – he will be pleased that I am returning and thus it is being reflected in my day job as no one wants a miserable incompetent person in a customer facing role apparently – my words not his. Menopause – another subject for another day.
