I’m having a break from thinking about everything that happened at this time two years ago, and trying to establish where exactly I am now, and why… Being an only child is quite a responsibility, but my parents were always incredibly supportive, whatever crazy idea I had… They did, though, still keep me grounded. I knew I’d WANT to explain my plans to them, and to talk things over and over until they were straight in my mind. I couldn’t do anything too rash or impulsive without explaining myself, and yes, that went on into my late 40s, and I think that was a good thing… It was so amazing to know that whatever I did, I not only had their unconditional love, but their support too, both practical and emotional. So yes, I changed careers, more house than once, divorced (I’ll explain why another time, but it wasn’t the “usual” grounds for divorce), I moved around the country far too much, bought a holiday home in Europe… Throughout everything, they were there…but then they weren’t there and suddenly, there was nothing to stop me from doing whatever I wanted. No unconditional love, either. Never again will I know what it feels like to be loved in that way. To know that there will always be someone – two people – who believe in me completely, and who will stand by me whatever choices I make…
So, there I was, heartbreak from losing both parents… From having no siblings to share the burden of all the paperwork that goes hand in hand with that… No husband to comfort me, no children or grandchildren to distract… Just me, and a new fiancé, an elderly cat, and an excellent job which was making me ill….. So, without too much reflection, and without the emotional support I craved… I resigned from my job, put the house on the market, bought a puppy, and got married…. I cleared their home, went through the difficult process of probate, sold their home, and bought a house abroad…all in the space of 10 months.
So here I am in France and it feels as if I’m sleeping beauty (only not so young and certainly not so beautiful!) because I just cannot believe it all happened 2 years ago…it feels like one year. I’ve lost a whole year somehow, because everything is still so very raw… I’ve tried hard to find time to give myself what I need; quiet time to reflect on everything, to write things down, to allow myself to remember. A psychologist would say I’d purposefully denied myself that time, because I’m not ready to face up to things… They’d be wrong, though… Every day since they died, I’ve craved time to sit and reflect, and to record my thoughts, feelings and emotions…but, as you can see, I’ve been quite busy setting up a new life in another country…
Like many people, I’ve always liked those books where someone tells their story of moving abroad and starting a new life somewhere, and I suppose I always knew I’d do that myself one day. I’d planned for it to be a different country, though, and don’t quite understand how I ended up in France, but here I am… What those books don’t explain – not the ones I’ve read, anyway – is the sheer difficulty of the every day things… Namely, taxes! Perhaps because when we first came here I wasn’t functioning properly, and if I’m honest I’m still not, but…..it seems as if every day there is at least one letter about taxes or social charges or insurance or running a business… I don’t speak French yet. Did I mention that? I studied it at school, but that was forever ago… I “knew” if I set my mind to it, I’d pick it up…but it’s been such a busy year doing up the property, when the DIY skills we had between us was zero… We’ve spent months working on the house and starting our business, and as soon as I start trying to translate these forms/letters I completely lose my ability to concentrate… So they’re either filled in inadequately, or put in a “very important” pile, which grows each week… That’s an example of what I wouldn’t do if Dad was still around.. I’d feel that he knew…that he could sense how disorganised I’d become, and knowing he was aware would make me determined to fix it.. But my father is dead. My father is DEAD… That thought runs constantly around in my head, alongside… my MOTHER is also dead…. So how can I find room in my head to translate letters from the French tax office?
So yes, here we are in a beautiful part of France… Blue skies, cold winter days but such clear, bright days… Vineyards which have turned to orange and gold are finally starting to lose their leaves… The countryside is constantly changing, because it’s agricultural so different crops appear and then disappear, changing the colours I see all around. And yet… the stresses of the taxes take so much away from this for me.. and the constant nagging thoughts are “What have we done?” and “How did we end up here?”…..
I have changed every single part of my life. I have turned everything upside down. My parents simply would not recognise this life I’ve created, this person I have become… So is THAT why I’ve done it? To change who I am, so I am not their daughter trying to make her way through life without them? Because, you know…it is so hard when you’re the last one in your family. When you have no-one who shares your childhood memories. So that I sometimes wonder if I’m making up my memories, rather than remembering… I’m conscious, suddenly, that I’ve run away from my life… and yet of course, that’s impossible, and my life is my life; I can’t run away from it. So here I am, in a foreign country, desperately homesick for something which doesn’t exist anymore and not having the faintest idea how to change everything…again.
“Life equals running and when we stop running maybe that’s how we’ll know life is finally finished.”
― Patrick Ness