Friday, 12 June 2015

End of an Era

A card and gift for Grandad from Amy and Thomas. 
Rhubarb cordial. It's a little sweeter than the mixed berry one but that could be because Jamie Oliver has obviously never heard of the evils of sugar. I've just got to get the cordial and water ratio fine tuned as it's a bit hit and miss at the moment. Another lovely colour though.  
The patio doors have been open all day and I've been watching a robin and butterfly flitting in and out of the garden. I couldn't get a photo of them so I went all artistic and took a 'through the flower leaves' shot of my candles - as one does when creatures needed for a blog post won't stay still!
We went to visit Tom in hospital this afternoon and were told he was being moved to the home we chose for him. 

At 7.30pm we received the phone call that he was on his way there and Mark went up to meet him and make sure he got settled in.

We'd been up to his house earlier on to clear the fridge, sort the post and make sure everything was alright. I found it quite poignant really; the fact that he won't be coming home again, that we won't see him sat in his chair when we pass in the car, that he won't drop in to Number 38 again unannounced for a 'quick' brew then stay for hours, and that there will be no more of us 'just popping up the road to see Mum and Dad or Grandma and Grandad'.

They've lived in their house for 40 years and we've lived here for 18 years and nobody living there anymore will seem very strange indeed. 



  1. Bless.
    I seem to say that to you a lot, but it's all I can think of to say. You are going through so much, one way or another and rather beautifully sharing it on the blog. I'd love to live up the road from you and say call by for a cuppa and a little piece of quiet, but I will just settle for a virtual hug and a cuppa sent to you via the ethernet. Julian of Norwich put it best, "All shall be well, and all shall be well and all manner of things shall be well."

    1. Thanks Angel Jem, the hug and cuppa are very much appreciated. I find writing about it and seeing it down in black and white doesn't make it seem so bad. The positive side is that yes, 'all is well'. As sad as I am about certain things, as long as Tom is happy that's the main thing. xx

  2. My Grandad died when I was 12. My Nanna had to leave their bungalow a short while before she sadly died too many years later. I still feel wistful when we drive past and I say every single time - Those are my Grandad's roses. I wish I'd taken them now x but things happen because they have to and even though it stinks the world relentlessly turns. I'm not doing a very good job of being comforting and supportive here xx so I shall end with a great big ( absolutely useless but meant well ) internetty ((((((((((((HUG)))))))))))

  3. You've put it perfectly Rachel and the hug was very welcome. x The world does keep turning and that's how it should be.

    I have to pass my nanna and grandads house (the rhubarb growing ones) to get to my Mums and I still look at it every time wondering what it's like inside and whether the garden is still the same. I think when we look back with yearning it's because such good memories were made there. I shall have to get over all this emotion though as we need to pass Tom's house several times a day to get to and from ours!

    I'm usually very law abiding but I'd be tempted to dig up one of your grandad's roses under cover of darkness :) xx