Endings

 

My dad is moving into a different house and getting married. This shouldn’t really effect me too much as I left home 10 years ago not long after my parents divorce. In that 10 years, I’ve gone back to live with my dad a handful of times for about 2-3 months a piece. But I’m feeling oddly anxious.

Here I am looking around the walls of the home that has never really been my home. The home that dad bought with the little money mum let him take out of their 16 year marriage pot. It screams ‘dad’. All whitewashed walls, tidy cupboards with everything facing the same way. The laundry that smells slightly damp and musty in the winter because my dad refuses to put the heating on when he’s at work and equally refuses to use the tumble dryer for anything that doesn’t need to be dry quickly.

I’m sat in the living room facing the TV, where dad sat for years, feeling a deep sense of loneliness. The loneliness is mine of course not my dad’s. My dad isn’t lonely anymore. But I think back to the past decade of passing visits and nights kipping over to save a long taxi ride out of town. I think back to his steady demeanor as I said goodbye countless times. Sat in his chair facing the TV. He was so lonely. And I was no company. I had a life to lead.

My dad has never once made me feel bad for it. But, quite selfishly now, I do feel bad. If only for the reason that I am now the one stuck inside my own head with just my crazy thoughts for company. I am now the one sat down with the TV and a cup of tea for company, watching my dad buzz around preparing for his move in with his new wife.

Selfish I know. But I am sad.

This house is not a home but it is memories. It is part of my story. Another part I have to say goodbye to. My dad has been a rock. He stayed close to the city where he could see my sister and I. He has always let us have a key. Now he is moving far away and it will be a house with a different family where I will be a guest.

I’m pleased for dad. He has purpose and happiness. That’s why I am writing this here instead of telling him my thoughts. He deserves all of the good that this change is doing him. And maybe I deserve to have no say in it, given how little thought I’ve given to my dad’s happiness in the past.

Gosh home truths can be hard.

On the plus side, I’ve got back an old box set of two pints of lager and a packet of crisps that I’d forgotten I had!