I’ve been thinking A LOT about my family this week.
On Tuesday it was my sister’s birthday… I think she’s now 28?
The weekend before was tough: when the grief hits me, it still feels like she’s died. It beggars belief – even to me! – that she lives only an hour away from London. Same as my mother.
My mother loves the bright lights of Westfield Stratford, and so whenever I go there I wonder what it would be like to bump into her: would it be like bumping into an ex? I imagine that I’ll be the one to walk in the other direction in order to try as quickly as possible to get away, while she’ll be the one to say try and say hello. But then she might surprise me and I might surprise myself… perhaps it’ll be the other way around?
I still have dreams where my sister and I are still as close as we once were. In my latest dream, I was still living in Kent and was packing up my stuff to move in with my boyfriend. My sister was helping me pack my stuff into boxes and I was saying to her: “uh I hate packing. But hopefully this will be my last move.”
Reflecting back on that, I do find that symbolic as I am moving in with my boyfriend.
They don’t even know where I’m moving too.
But if you’re reading this and you are in contact with my family, you can let them know that I am happy and that I am safe.