Today was going to be the day when I went and sold Andrew’s precious record collection.
I have discovered a shop in a nearby town, we’d corresponded by email and they were keen to take a look if I could get them there.
Not a problem I thought, even if it was somewhere I’d never actually driven to before it wasn’t stepping out of my comfort zone too much. I could always rely on the sat nav for directions.
Only the Sat Nav is dead, remember my journey to Edinburgh? Well if I could manage that this would be so much easier, only half an hour down the road.
I looked up directions on line and I thought I was sorted, even accounting for the little arrows which I assumed meant one way, I’d worked out a simple enough route.
The hardest part of the task that I could see this morning was bringing the six plastic boxes full of vinyl records down stairs from the loft.
OK even that is not difficult but I did a new exercise class last night and I have aching muscles and my legs start to wobble in protest just looking at a set of stairs!
Anyway I carried three boxes down, had a break for a cuppa – I’m not joking – then I fetched the other three and loaded them into the car.
I set off, dropping oldest son and his friend at college on the way, this was going to be a good day.
I turned off the main road and found myself stuck in a huge traffic jam – roadworks that according to the sign would be there for 70 weeks! Well all I had to do was stay on the main road then go completely round the roundabout, take the first turning, second on the left and I would be there, more or less.
Only I’m not sure I ever found the correct roundabout, maybe that new junction they were busy working on was once the roundabout I’d planned my route from and the map I’d looked up was now out of date!
When nothing looked quite as expected, I doubled back and eventually found myself on a familiar road – one that I knew would ultimately lead me home a different way.
That’s when I cried – why is nothing ever straightforward?
All the time I’d put on hold the emotional aspect of what I was about to do, but suddenly I’d been tripped up and overwhelmed by the enormity of it all.
Andrew’s precious vinyl was in the boot of the car. The collection of 45s he’d lovingly built up over the years when he ran his own mobile disco as a hobby and dreamed of being a DJ.
It was through our love of music that we originally met. How often had we sat together choosing records to play? I loved the fact he had some of my favourite tunes and I’ve kept the all the special ones with meaning and memories attached, but you can’t keep hoarding stuff forever.
At the moment I feel like everything I do leads to another dead end. I seem to be thwarted at every turn.
Selling Andrew’s records was supposed to be a proactive move, a positive step forward.
The records may not be worth a great deal in monetary terms but I’d like to think someone could find a use for them rather than just throw them out. That seems such a waste, a misuse of resources.
The truth is we all accumulate so much STUFF and it weighs us down more than we realise.
Perhaps it’s time to hire another skip – perhaps I just need to get rid of the clutter forever to be free – unless anyone knows what I can do with an assortment of radio/disco equipment that became obsolete long before Andrew died, not forgetting the 6 boxes of singles, now sitting in the hall – I can’t face carrying them all back upstairs!
Then I found this prayer on Facebook...
Perhaps next week I will re-visit the map, get my bearings and have another go, I’ve come too far to let this little blip defeat me… I’ll let you know.