I am in the process of dismantling the family home my Mum left in July and she had been there over 50 years so you can imagine the task I am faced with.
Imagine how guilty I felt when I read an essay she had written for an English literature class some years ago. It basically was an essay about how she enjoyed going to antique shops and finding beautiful things that had come from house clearances and how she thought about the people these things once belonged to. She went on to say how she hoped all her treasured item would never end up somewhere like this. Here I am clearing her house and sorting piles for the charity shop I feel so sleazy and like I am betraying her.
I then had an awful visit at the CH with more emotions, just fed up of being on this roller coaster of feelings and being drained trying to do so many things at once, and I have done nothing towards Christmas so feeling panicky as well.
Imagine how guilty I felt when I read an essay she had written for an English literature class some years ago. It basically was an essay about how she enjoyed going to antique shops and finding beautiful things that had come from house clearances and how she thought about the people these things once belonged to. She went on to say how she hoped all her treasured item would never end up somewhere like this. Here I am clearing her house and sorting piles for the charity shop I feel so sleazy and like I am betraying her.
I then had an awful visit at the CH with more emotions, just fed up of being on this roller coaster of feelings and being drained trying to do so many things at once, and I have done nothing towards Christmas so feeling panicky as well.