A settee made me cry

As regular readers of my blog will know, my mum had to go into an elderly people's home 2 years ago. My brothers and I make sure she gets a visit every day. As a consequence of this unfortunate move we had to empty and sell the family home of nearly 60 years. Although none of us had lived there for at least 30 years it almost felt as if we were losing our home.

Actually the emptying was in some ways very pleasant, spending time with my brothers, finding things we'd forgotten about, having a laugh. If I'm honest the farmhouse had lost a lot of its immediate appeal because it's the people who make a home special and they were no longer in situ.

And it's very odd what gets to you. My mum and dad had a very nice settee and chairs, dating from the 1970s and just a little old-fashioned. None of the family wanted them nor did any charity because they didn't have the correct fire prevention labels. Regrettably they had to go in a skip.

We looked at the empty skip, we sized the settee up and decided it would have to go in first. We were quite ebullient. It was a fine autumn day in a beautiful setting. We were achieving our objectives slowly but surely.

A skip full of a life

For one last time I sat on the settee for old time's sake. In that split second I was filled with all the Christmases, all the parties, all the TV watching, all the chats, all the being ill, all of life as seen from that settee. I screwed up my face and had a little cry. A sofa made me well up and cry. A time warp of emotions swept up and over me. My brother  brimmed up too. I got up, we lifted it, we got it stuck in the door, we fell about giggling and we popped that lovely, beautiful 1970s settee in the skip and got on with life. I'd said my goodbyes.