I'm feeling quite gloomy about the move to the Fens today.
As part of our impending relocation to Cambridge we are updating our 1929-built house to better reflect contemporary tastes, which means basically halving the number of internal walls and putting in a cool kitchen.
We had the designer guy from "Betta Living" around last night and he was here for FOUR hours, and it wasn't like we hadn't already decided what we wanted down to the last drawer. It was exhausting, and it made the move that much more real, which left me with a nasty sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach.
That's been happening a lot lately, being assailed by unwelcome thoughts about how finite our time here now is. I was especially struck by it when my son goes to cricket. He's become quite a regular pick for the Marple CC junior team and one of the coaches was talking about his "future at the club" the other week, which almost had me in tears. People keep telling me we'll find new Cricket clubs, dance schools etc. at the other end but that's missing the point. The hopes and dreams I had for my kids now lie in a future that will no longer take place, like another country that it's no longer possible to visit.
Maybe I should just man up and stop feeling sorry for myself but this move is going to be very tough for my kids.
No comments:
Post a Comment