I'm about to move away from the family home where I was widowed 5 years ago. Due to wanting to move away from the area, but mainly due to the expense of upkeep.
I organised a 'last supper' here for the family on Saturday. We were supposed to be 9 in all. I used some food from my freezer and bought in lots of fruit and salads.
My daughter's in-laws over from Canada were invited to come, but DD informed me in the afternoon they might be too tired after flying in day before.
So from 9 to 7 people. Then DD says my GS 8 felt unwell ( he gets very anxious) & the in-laws who couldn't come were going to babysit him instead.
My niece & nephew hadn't turned up the time they said. When I called, niece said she had totally forgotten and was very apologetic. So, from 9 to 4! My dog has been living on the leftovers since!.
Yesterday, I was supposed to meet my adult son ( who couldn't get to the supper) at Waterloo Station for lunch. When he didn't show, I called him & he groggily said he'd slept in...he did however make a huge effort to get to me and was very loving when I told him the disaster of my last night's supper.
Today, I'm feeling very emotional packing up my house, where my husband died and where I suffered all the raw grief of widowhood. Alot of furniture and bric a brac is being given away to charity and the minimal rest in storage, while I spend the summer in my bolthole by the sea. I have just finished a 2 year Fine Art diploma and 4 years as a local authority Councillor too.
All bittersweet, but at 70 I'm moving forward with hope for the future and new beginnings.
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