Wednesday, July 6, 2011

Sons and Daughters

I visited my eldest son on Sunday, July 3rd. He made dinner for me, and we went out and walked his dogs. During the walk I spoke to him of that last day with Arthur. He was in Victoria on a job when it happened. He has been distant during this time, and even on Sunday he was more into solving practical things than giving me any emotional support, He seemed to shy away from anything emotional, which I understand. But it did make it plain to me that I no longer had someone who would put their arms around me and hold me, or tell me it will all be okay. I just wanted a hug. I wanted to get into the car and go to my best friend, just to get someone to comfort me. But I know I need someone like my son to think of the practical things too.

This week the local housing agency came and fixed the light switch in Arthur's place. He was waiting for months for them to do that, also to paint his bedroom. His windows and doors needed fixing and again, they didn't come. He always paid his rent on time too, for over forty years in the one house. That disappointed me, though they did put in a ramp for his wheelchair. Arthur would not move into my house, I wish he had, for I am sure I could have looked after him better there, but he wanted us to be in his place, so I respected that. It is hard though, because I have to let it go, the place where many of my memories were formed.

My second son moved his catamaran today, and this caused an argument with my eldest son, over the trailer. I am sure they will work it out tomorrow but truly I do not have the energy for my offspring's squabbles.

I have thought a couple of times that maybe soon I should have Arthur's ashes interred, but I am not ready yet. I had his funeral service too soon for me, I was not ready, but my children, or at least my daughter and youngest son pushed me into having it only seven days after Arthur died. They said I needed to get it over with and they could not stay, as they had return flights and jobs they could not be away from for too long They thought they were helping me, but it was not the case. In the end only my middle son went with me to the funeral service, so the others may as well have left me to have it in my own time. 

My middle son says he stills cries himself to sleep at night, and he is getting help from the doctor.

This has affected us all, in different ways.