The inevitable question

When did work ever fit in my life? I’d be exaggerating if I said all my days since my last post have been non-stop partying and subsequent sleeping but my need to reflect and reassess in a structured way hasn’t been fulfilled yet.  I have been blessed to spend time with friends, have had lots of lovely lunches – mostly with the rather wonderful Stacey, completed quite a few domestic chores, met baby Daniel Gooding, put overdue effort into planning Brownie meetings and sung at Sue and Kevin’s wedding! I happen to think all of this has been just as useful as a week’s meditation on Iona in the snow may have been.

One unhappy event has prevented me taking a few solid days out. Poor Mum sprained her ankle badly on Wycombe High Street, only a few months after duffing the other foot so I’ve had a wobbly mother. I’ve been helping with a few extra lifts and getting shopping in but mostly being entertainment. She doesn’t like to sit still, and really doesn’t like letting people down so getting her to rest has been a mission.

And yes – I see the family resemblance – the irony has not escaped me.  

I’m not going to delve into our relationship but mum and I have had to re-balance everything in the past 12 months, after a bit of a breakdown post me moving out and being subsumed by work, and where we are now is pretty lovely. Mum has re-discovered some independence that my presence in her home was preventing and I have managed to feel less responsible for her. It’s been a struggle, not least because of her injuries this year and how frail that makes her feel. It is her birthday today, only 64, and frail is not a word she ever wants used so I try to remind her that it wouldn’t be except for these ongoing accidental injuries. They have exacerbated some previously un-concerning arthritis which I know is sad for her but the podiatrist appointment is in the diary.

The other reason I bring this up is because I am seriously considering moving home in what would be a much shorter timescale than anticipated. Originally I wanted to stay at mine until February and thought that moving back to Mum’s wasn’t my only option.  But having re-looked at my finances, I could afford to remain in my flat for a number of months, but it seems economically daft to do so. Mum has offered me free lodgings! With the space and time we’ve had apart, the balance we’ve found, and with a maturing in my views, it seems silly to spend a fair chunk of my savings retaining my home.  I am sad at the thought of leaving my little flat, but it doesn’t seem so imperative to retain it anymore to preserve my fragile sanity. Praise the Lord I’m happier than I’ve been in a long time, Mum and I have a much improved friendship and I also have Rob’s place to escape to and leave messy! I have no qualms about moving home at 32, I don’t adhere to negative views about being over 21 and living with the folks.

As always, having a half formed thought and not a plan is unnerving me. I’m praying about it and am going to see my counsellor to talk about it.

And I was hoping to visit my friend Rin in Bristol on Saturday, primarily for a catch up but also to pick her brains as she has done what I am doing – she now works three part time jobs and goes to college and is an all round inspiration to me! But the whole family are descending for birthday celebrations and even then I don’t know if the snow and ice storm we’re suffering will have relented by then.

Rin and I will definitely have that conversation at Christmas. And on that note, the one thing I have decided the last few weeks, is that I wouldn’t be finding myself in this happier place without the gift of friendship. So many people have been entertaining me, asking me for dinner and lunches, checking up on me, dropping me notes, texts and cards and more than anything else praying for me – I am very grateful.