Home again, home again... there's no place like home... home is where the heart is... home sweet home... Did you ever think about how many expressions there are that encourage us to believe in the magical power of our homes? It seems to me that the concept of home is so important to all of us that we invent a mythical place that will satisfy our hopes and dreams and nourish us when we're down. Isn't it inevitable that we are often disappointed?
To come home and find that the sheets still need changing, the wall still needs repairing, the plants need watering - all those things are expected and part of the daily fabric of living. The letdown I feel after a beautiful week away is also inevitable. Crouch End cannot possibly compete with Italy, either in sunshine, green spaces or food, but at least it is friendly and welcoming. The guys in the corner shop hugged me hello and the greengrocer said he noticed I'd been away. These tiny things make the day feel better.
My brother phoned this afternoon and told me my dad was not doing well. We both know that this latest downturn is not a good thing. It really does feel so tough to be this far away and yet, what to do? Do I get on a plane tomorrow and go to see my dad? Do I stay and wait? These are the things I've been busy with today. I've looked at many different possibilities and have pretty much decided to adopt a watch and wait, but on high alert, sort of strategy.
The precariousness of my father's situation has sent me into major turmoil. My holiday mood evaporated in an instant and I've been prickly and preoccupied all day. I am trying to stay balanced and remember how peaceful last week was. It does help that I'm feeling healthy and strong.
Do I go away next week to France? Not sure yet and have decided to play things day by day. This actually fits in with my inability to make plans anyway, so I'll continue to wait and see.
The Alps seem a lifetime away. Even my tan is fading...
Om tryambakam!
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