We are in the middle of the final stage of the adaptations to our house. The two ramps outside are nearing completion. I was sorry to see the last of our porch doors, removed to make room for the wheelchair platform. They were taken away yesterday but I was able to make a joke about it. How strange that as my two red squashy sofas were carried from the house today, in Step 2 of the downstairs bedroom plan (Step 1: create living space elsewhere, Step 2 create bedroom in former living room), I had to fight to control the tears. Very unexpected. All the rest of it, all the changes to the house, whilst disruptive, were improvements - the new kitchen, the fabulous wet room -new flatscreen TV with Sky package. I can't kid myself anymore. I don't want to get rid of my sofas and our new living space is not going to be half as nice as our lovely, lovely sitting room. I will do my best to creat a lovely new bedroom but I don't want to have to do it. Right now I can't summon the energy to clean the bare sitting room and sort out the mess in the bedroom upstairs in readiness for our bed to be transferred tomorrow to its new home.
I wrote the paragraph above earlier today. I did clean the room and sorted out at least some of the stuff upstairs (why do we accumulate so many things? I'm sure we don't need half of them). But first I went out and met an old friend for coffee. I'm so glad I did. Getting out helped, but the support she gave me and the warmth of her affection set me up for my afternoon's work.
Bit of a hairy moment when Tom came home. I had thought he knew the sofas were going today and that his parents would be sleeping downstairs by the weekend. But although I had mentioned it, he had clearly blocked this conversation out and I know I didn't make a big thing out of it. That was a mistake. It is a big thing and I should have made sure he understood and faced out the storm. As it was, the storm came today but with the added benefit for me of an accusation of leaving him out of the loop. "Why am I always the last to know?" "Too many changes, too quickly," he flung at me. It did cut me to the quick, because I have prided myself on looking after Tom and doing right by him. But he's right. I shied away from making absolutely certain he understood that the changes were imminent. Such a basic mistake. Actually cowardly. And yet part of me was surprised that he wasn't more aware of what was happening. I was reluctant to talk about it to him, but I have thought of little else lately - how obvious it is to me that Roch needs to be downstairs now - and how to plan the move. It does take an enormous amount of planning. I found it difficult to believe he was so surprised. I think part of his upset was because he had friends coming over this evening to watch the Arsenal-Barca match. He was embarrassed, perhaps by the bareness of the sitting room and he isn't used to our new arrangements downstairs. Underlying the changes is the reason for them all and the fact of that is distressing for him too.
After the storm had passed, I asked him how he wanted us to approach things in future - to be kept in the loop, so to speak and he said that he didn't want to know. So I can't win, really.
Looks like Arsenal might be letting him down tonight too.