I left home on Saturday morning feeling sad. Dave had already driven off in the other direction so I was leaving an empty house. It felt like a foretaste of the future: bitter. But what was I thinking? None of us knows the future.
I arrived in Wensleydale and felt happy: my big sister Kath was there. She always gets there before me. She is fast and reliable. She is a rock, just like our mother was.
I had a lovely weekend. How could I not? A great place to stay in my parents’ village, good food, seeing my brother, walking with Kath on the footpaths our parents and grandparents did before us,
and checking in on the burial ground.
Dave wants to be scattered in a river. I want to be here, with my parents and grandparents.
I felt sad to leave the dale on Monday morning.
But oh, it was so lovely to be home.
Maybe I am just no good at transition, at letting go.