The Sands of Time

This last weekend was quite a sad time for me.

My Mum, who's nearing 90 and in failing health, has gone into a Care Home (Old Folks Home for those of you who are old enough to remember when we called a spade a spade). It was a hard decision for my siblings and myself to make, but we had to do it in my Mum's best interests as she wasn't coping at home and none of us could devote nearly enough time to become an 'unofficial' carer.

So off she went a couple of month ago. Thankfully, she loves it and, suffering from Alzheimers, doesn't even remember or talk about home any more. She lives her life in the present.

That left a problem - the house. Being an unoccupied property, it has gone from being an asset to a liability as getting home and contents insurance has become a nightmare. So we have decided to sell it.

That brings me back to last weekend when I had to rent a van and collect all the stuff I still have at home - all the stuff I accumulated over a childhood and adolescence growing up there - all the stuff I once thought I didn't need in my life but now cling on to so tightly. It was a poignant, funny, sad and happy weekend all at the same time. I lived in that house from 3 years old so knew no other whilst growing up.

When we finally come to sell it, I will shed a tear. I know I will.

Life is brutal sometimes. Things go from being seemingly immovable and timeless to being oh so transient. The sands which we build our lives upon shift and we find ourselves having to face realities we really don't want to face. People who we come to see as rocks in our life, strong and secure, decline and fade.

The focus is now on my Mum. She deserves my attention right now. I'm only too eager to give her this.