Not written anything on my blog for almost a week and my fingers are getting twitchy, eager to type something, anything, even if it is rubbish and I end up hitting the delete key at the end.
I’ve not even done any work on my “book” for what seems like weeks, my thoughts are too distracted, firstly by my kitchen muddle and now I have a whole house to tidy with the imminent viewing approaching.
I’m desperately trying not to get my hopes up or get ahead of myself, I’ve not looked at houses to buy although a part of me is convinced something good is going to happen and everyone I’ve told is bubbling with excitement and praying this will all work out.
Meanwhile I am calmly plodding through each room, tidying up little corners of clutter, sorting items to take to the charity shop and ruthlessly throwing away what no one needs.
There’s a feeling I get when I reach the end of a good book a longing to know just how it will all end but at the same time a sadness, what shall I do once this is over? I don’t want to lose these characters in my life.
Good books stay with you for a lifetime and so do good memories.
This morning I have sorted a box of Andrew memories, some photos, certificates, an old hat, his favourite mug, birthday cards, old passports and a school report. Just things really but things that prove he existed, things that bring back memories, things that show the very best of him.
But these chapters are over and I feel as if this part of my life is coming to an end. There’s a tension between holding on and letting go and that’s probably how it should be.
We are nearly there… wherever “there” may be, all except the inevitable final twists and turns of the story, perhaps the ending will still surprise us all, but I’m going to savour the last few pages of this story absorbing all the good feelings, remembering the happy times and carrying them forward into our next adventure.