Good Grief 291

Writing this up a week later after a rather crushing week at work.
A weekend return to mum and dad's. It was the longest gap (four months) that I've had going down there for probably getting on for many years. It felt strange again at first. We tend to hang out in the kitchen and so I made a point of looking into the living room each morning and other times and there was always a strange quality to it. A very full stillness. Almost a sense of a different air pressure. Perhaps a bit like one of those chambers you go into when you decompress from diving the depths. A sadness, yet very hard to quantify.
I had to take flowers again https://www.blipfoto.com/entry/2302779803956152156

Otherwise it was catching up on family stuff. I often wonder where my emotional self goes at these times. It doesn't matter much. I have few expectations. That might sound mean. It's not meant to be. It just is as it is and has probably always been. It is odd to meet with family who last saw me when P was alive and for them to make no mention of it. I made a point of it. I don't think people always know what to do so ironically you can feel as though you are nursing them through this unspoken minefield. Or else they don't give it any thought. It's a long time now. I know I can rely on the sea and the land and so I swim.