It’s taken many years but I feel able to cheerfully announce that I am healed! Why so? I wasn’t looking forward to it but I’ve been back to the storage depot with my brother and sorted the remainder of the treasures which belonged to my Mum and Dad.
You’d have been proud of me, tackling the job with a very positive mental attitude. We sorted through a mountain of boxes, saving a few books for bookworm Daughter to read – bought her a Kindle but doesn’t use it, preferring the ‘real thing’, she says. EVERYTHING has now been allocated to a destination, mostly the charity shop. There are so many beautiful books, Dad being extremely well read, so someone’s in for a treat. The storage chap hid several large boxes of rubbish so that he could dispose of them for us when nobody was looking; it’s amazing what a bit of buttering up can do!
It’s a weight off my mind and signifies the end of an era. So much was stolen and the indignity of much-loved possessions being strewn all over a warehouse floor I now see made my hold on what remained all the stronger. I don’t know if you can understand when I say I felt protective towards my parents’ feelings in case they knew what had happened? Sounds mad, I know, but I had to look after what remained of the physical representation of the lives of two very special people.
Finally, I’ve let the belongings go. Round of applause, please, for it’s a significant step forward. There are a couple more to take yet, such as the dedicating of a tree on the Autumn Trail at Westonbirt Arboretum which Mum loved to visit. It’s all so final but, finally, I’m reaching a point of internal equilibrium. There’s something else I haven’t told you, but I’m not quite ready yet…