things are progressing, boxes are being packed, charity shops are benefiting as there are lots of things we don’t need. In truth I enjoy the process of decluttering and reorganising our possessions, even if it is tricky this time.
Yesterday I didn’t cry, not even once, a first I think in many days and weeks. Perhaps I am resigned to this process, I am finally accepting that we will no longer have a home here in this town. I don’t know.
What I do know is that having friends around is helping so much. I spent time with three people yesterday, and each, in their own way offered help and support. Humour too. I have learned that filling boxes is much easier with someone alongside you. I have learned that sharing stories of past situations makes me realise that all things will pass. I am also considering the possessions we have, and my feeling is that it is all just stuff. Stuff that is useful, stuff that holds memories, stuff that is replaceable. All stuff. None of it really matters at all.
It seems to me that lessons are being learned. Perhaps the universe is showing me to how live my life in a better way. Maybe I needed to have a word with myself, I was too complacent perhaps, taking things for granted. I am remembering the people I have supported over the years who have been without a home. Yes, I tried my best, but I had not a clue how it actually feels, how they must have been feeling, to be vulnerable and uncertain. In my sixty years on this earth I have never known this, so I have to reflect how fortunate I have been. I had a settled childhood, with a lovely home, then I have brought my children to adulthood always with a secure place to live. We have chosen our homes, with care, making sure it was right for us, and I have always been able to furnish it as we please. There has mostly always been food in the fridge and enough money (sometimes, in the overdraft) to allow us to live comfortably. All that time I had no idea what a gift this is. Until now. The feeling of powerlessness, the feeling of uncertainty is at times overwhelming. It is as if the world has slipped on its axis and I have my shoes on the wrong feet. I simply have not been able to ‘get a grip’. It has taken the support of many people, all offering to hold my hand, to steady the ship to calm waters, for once in my life I couldn’t do this on my own.
I have learned that my old Auntie was right when she said ‘a little help is better than a lot of pity’ . A lot of help is better again.
Today there is still much to do, we are on a countdown, 96 hours left, but I know I can do this, I can get by with a little help from my friends.