23rd March is the day my parent’s death sits heavily on my heart. Often it’s a tricky one.
Thankfully I had some work in the morning, helping a friend move a sofa around Hampshire with the van. I’m not advertising the van far and wide, but it’s heartening how many friends think of me when they have a little job to do. If I can find a way to get one that’s LEZ compliant, I’ll almost certainly get one for myself, although I’ll inevitably book a six month tour the day after my parking permit comes in. Meanwhile I’ve got the Soul Van for another week or two before I’ll have to give it back. And I can use it to help an old friend.
It’s another friend with kids. I’m beginning to feel slow on that whole front. I was doing the maths, and I’ll be lucky to see my kids get to my age if I had them right now, which isn’t likely, being commitedly single. My parents were both off before I hit thirty. It’s isolating, losing your parents young. I’d like to try to be there for any little humans I bring into this dying world. Right now my bedroom is full of boxes and unwashed clothes. Hardly the best advert for potential babyfather duties. Plus there’s no way in hell I’m giving up the acting as primary.
After a morning of driving and a great lunch I found myself having to fight exceptionally hard not to fall asleep at the wheel on the way home. Both windows open and radio on full. Droopy eyes. My body had decided to just shut down. I just made it home, went upstairs and fell asleep in a daytime puddle with Pickle.
Spring is hard, and the 23rd of March is the hardest bit. I’ve packaged the death of my parents better and the grief has a name. But it’s never going to stop the anniversary from being troublesome.
I slept until evening and then slouched around the flat watching documentaries while Brian fed me macaroni and I listed more random stuff in eBay, including the first wave of a huge number of 1950’s sewing patterns from the storage clearout, using my little LED photo box so I can take snaps no matter what the natural light is like.
I’ve discovered that you can get odours out of clothes without washing them by putting them in the freezer. This is good considering I’m selling a large amount of clean clothes that have been sitting in a damp room for many years. I am less likely to start getting negative feedback from people who say I sold them a stinky pair of jeans if I bag them up and shove them in the freezer for an hour or two.
Now I’m trying to wind to sleep, despite having slept a large portion of the day. I want to wake up early enough to make a real dent into listing Peter’s shirts and crap on eBay. Tomorrow is the first legitimately free day I’ve had for a few weeks, which I’m thrilled about. Things slow down a bit in April, but it’s never too late for last minute change. The National must have my number saved wrong.