The old homestead

Feeling very low over the past few days. Maura and I went to the garden centre at Syon Park on Tuesday and it was a trip down memory lane in a way. We took the train and walked down Syon Lane, past the road leading to the old homestead. Maura remarked about how strange it felt to be walking along there without a buggy. I know what she meant. I had been feeling oppressed by a weight of memories. That's where they were babies, toddlers, where Roch and I lived as a young couple starting out on our married life together. So many fond memories of life in that little house. Kate says that she has lovely childhood memories of our time there (I rate that as quite an achievement). I'm not saying they were always happy times. Sometimes it was lonely and we had our bad times too. I'm not seeing it through rose tinted glasses by any means. But I felt such a feeling of loss. I felt so sad. For all of us, but mostly for Roch. For our little foursome as we were then.

We sat in the coffee shop (well, outside - it was a nice day) and I remembered being in the old coffee shop at Syon House with Roch, when Kate was a tiny baby. We had to leave because she screamed so loudly she was disturbing the other customers. My God how she screamed. Actually we had a terrible time with her (trauma at birth is my theory) for weeks after she was born. But that's all part of our history. It's what makes us a family.

Anyway I kind of went through the motions, choosing plants and making small talk but I felt disconnected, like somehow I was watching myself from a distance and observing other people from an entirely different place, a very sad place.