7.1.2010
I decide to go to work anyway. To continue life as normal? To get out of the house? Who knows.
It’s almost impossible to do useful self-directed work today; I keep phasing out, and feel like I’m doing the wrong thing by being there anyway. I manage to help someone else out with something, though. Call it a day.
I meet some people afterwards, but what can anyone say? Nothing is appropriate. I head back to the old house and get some things done. Even this is probably the wrong reaction, cleaning the place up and doing housework, but I want to do something good. It still feels like my mother’s house, so maybe doing good things for it is like doing good things for her, something that I wasn’t able to do much of when she was in hospital.
Also, I’m worried about the future. What will happen to this place, and us? Whatever’s ahead is going to be a struggle, so I can’t blame myself for doing things that need to be done, even though I’ve been declared weird for it.
In the evening a procession of people from the neighbourhood turned up, lined the front yard with candles and sang songs. Mother made a lot of friends. At least we have a lot of support at hand.
so sad, but yet the picture is magical.
jamie