Categories: uncategorized
Date: 03 January 2007 22:45:32
Well, I wonder what I might blog about today!
What a day I have had. The day has been a hard one, to tell the truth... I commented to my friend that I felt "heavy" (to which she made a rather rude remark, I felt, about my expanding girth!!!) and it was a feeling that stayed with me most of the day - a dull fed-upness that just wanted things not to be true. It was partly son-based as today they went back to school and I delivered my eldest at the school gates with a real sense of foreboding and powerlessness. It was partly father-based, naturally, as we struggle to get everything ready for Friday and to deal with tidying the bungalows and sorting paperwork and phone calls etc. It was partly frustration that everything we achieve seems to throw up half a dozen more things to do (e.g. the Smudgelets' shirts are too large and too small and need changing; enquiring about a Bond that Dad held reveals that he closed it, but also that he had another one the we didn't know about joint with my Mum and that we'd never notified them of Mum's death so would need her death certificate as well as his etc) It was partly lack of sleep - last night was riddled with nightmares which really wasn't necessary or helpful at all, thank you very much. And it's partly selfish as I face up to the fact that, after seven months of almost always having one or the other of my sisters around as well as my Dad, on Saturday they will all leave (apart from my brother) and I will suddenly be alone (apart from my brother... but he's, how can we put this nicely?.. well, he's a man!)
The feeling has hung around all day, intensified by a meeting with the minister to finalise funeral arrangements and, especially, a moment when we were in the cash and carry buying the food for Friday. My friend M is making a fruit salad but using a tinned one as a base and adding fresh fruit to it. She picked up a huge tin and said in disgust "So much for being healthy, they only have it in syrup, they don't have it in juice!" and instantly I replied "Well that's no use then, cos Dad won't be able to have any!". The enormity of it hit. In one fell swoop the enormity of never having Dad to consider again hit and my heart sank to rock bottom and stayed there, even when I managed to hide the fact from others.
Add to that that my computer chose today to start acting the goat, first telling me I had no printer, then informing me that it couldn't scan the photo of Dad onto the order of service because I had no scanner. With time of the essence it was a pressure I could well have done without. I finally managed to get the scanner working and tried to put the file onto a memory stick so my friend could print it for me... and the computer insisted on informing me I hadn't one of those either! Eventually I emailed it to her... I so hope it worked.
But I arrived home from a very valuable meeting at the school about my eldest's behaviour and learning, to find the most beautiful bouquet of flowers waiting for me in my lounge, and some lovely lovely cards and letters too (Arti, yours has arrived. Thank you so so much. I will try to write to you properly, but I wanted to let you know that it's here). It's hard to feel forlorn when you know you're so loved.
And
Oooooooooooooooooooooh.......... a bag of nerves, already dancing from foot to foot in uncertainty... off I went to the ballroom. I had the most wonderful time. It was the best decision I could have made. The place was packed - all people about my age, all total beginners, all really quite friendly. I was nervous about what to wear, especially on my feet, but I found I was about middle of the road and most people were just in normal shoes and clothes. The instructor is brilliant - I've been taught by him before somewhere, I think it was when my friends and I did a bit of line dancing many moons ago, and he's an excellent teacher. We did the social foxtrot and the chachacha basics.
I did a bit of ballroom and latin when I was a young teenager and loved it, despite having real difficulty communicating between my brain and my hips. I was always quite self-conscious and knew I was no good at dancing but didn't care because it was fun. You can imagine my surprise yesterday when I was going through some of Dad's papers and found... believe it or not... my exam results from my bronze medal latin dance exam. I had highly commended in the cha cha cha and the samba, and just missed the same by one mark in the rhumba! And the comments didn't mention my hips at all - just that my head position was not quite right in the rhumba. Has that gone to my head? You bet it has! I was so chuffed, I'm tempted to have it framed! And it didn't half give me that smidgeon more confidence tonight.
Only downside to the evening was that in this huge crowd of people, everyone but about eight of us were in couples. Normally there are loads of single women so you don't feel too self-conscious, but with only eight and no spare men to share around we felt a bit obvious and "sad". They discourage the ladies from dancing the men's part, so we had to dance alone for much of the dance. BUT. There was one big advantage to this. The teacher and his wife took it in turns to dance with each of us for part of the evening, and the difference of dancing with someone who can really dance was amazing. I was able to relax and let him lead and it felt really lovely to be dancing, albeit the most incredibly simple steps, with someone so completely confident and in control. It was worth spending some of the time alone, just for that.
When can I go again, please?