A Fond Farewell

I actually cried on the way up the 126 steps as we left last night. The 9 year old thought he'd upset me by covering my back with that sticky-jack weed, but it wasn't because of that - even though it was a little sod thing to do.

Maybe it was because during this last week, as Confucious dad said, it was a chance to be fun and frivolous. No hospital appointments, no drug taking...and no wig-wearing. Trudging back up the steps meant that I would have to start focusing on the ct scan, the boob tattoos and the 3 weeks of radiotherapy.

But hey - I'm psyched for all that, and at the end of the 3 weeks, on July 20th to be precise, it will all be well and truly over - apart from follow ups etc.

So I don't really think it was because I was having to face reality again.

Maybe it was relief.

A bit like when I left the chemo ward for the last time. I'd made it, I'd done it. I'd crossed a finishing line. We didn't think we'd get to the cottage, but we did - thanks to 2 little oystercatchers.

But I think it was more than that.

For many, many years as a kid and as a wife and mother, I have turned to say goodbye to the little cottage on the 100th step, before it disappeared behind the wild garlic, the nettles and the sticky jack weed.  I'd always looked back and thought - 'Ahh what a shame, we're leaving, but we'll be back next year - bye for now.'

This time, as I turned to look back at the little cottage for one last time yesterday, I think that I'd lost a bit of my 'indifference,' and my 'taking things for granted attitude.' 

Has the last 6 months just turned me more emotional? Or am I starting to see people and places with new eyes and with a new attitude. I love that cottage by the sea, and instead of giving it a couple of air kisses, I wanted to give it a great big hug and a heartfelt, teary farewell.

And so, back to reality - ct scan on Tuesday morning....and a cricket game on Tuesday evening with the Angels....and, of course, many more wonderful memories to look back on at our place by the seaside.