A Mothers Sacrifice #Wattys2017 COMPLETE

15 - MOVING ON?

The next few weeks went by in a blur.

Sol spent a lot of his time either working, at the private hospital completing tests or seeing Malachi.

We avoided putting ourselves in situations where we could dwell on our feelings surrounding ourselves with the task at hand or enjoying our son. It was hard to accomplish.

Walking around town I was glad not to see Angela. I suspected she was just as relieved.

Sol never mentioned Angela's visit therefore I gathered he didn't know.

On my travels I was surprised how much the town had changed in the time I had been gone. It was sad to see some of my favourite places like individual quirky shops replaced by chain shops.

It was good to see some things hadn't changed. The park where we all used to meet as teenagers before going out was still there. It was cared for by the Parks Department and they had installed some benches and new play equipment for the younger children. One evening whilst walking past I even saw a small hut they were using as a youth club hub. I thought this was a fab idea, seeing youth workers encourage the kids to do something fun rather than wasting their time vandalising the equipment or drinking.

I had managed to get a private tutor who happened to be one of my old teachers from school. She was previously a nurse who started getting interested in teaching when she helped with the schooling of the sick children in hospital on long time stays. She then took a late career change into teaching.

Mrs Sloane insisted that as we were no longer in school we should called her Annie. Annie was in her mid sixties, about five foot six inches tall and had a very warm grandmother appearance. Soft, warm eyes and perfectly styled grey hair. She wore her glasses on the bridge of her nose and was always neat and tidy.  Despite being very together she was warm and caring.

She matched what we needed perfectly. I was confident she knew how to look after Malachi should he fall ill in her care and personally knew her to be a fantastic and engaging teacher.

More importantly Malachi loved her too. I was more than happy that she was the right choice.

Sol insisted on paying for her services. I tried to explain that I didn't expect to receive financial help but my protests fell on deaf ears.

I busied myself with sorting out my parents house once and for all, when I wasn't looking after Malachi or attending appointments.

The task as a whole was daunting. I had to contend with the memories of growing up here. The reminders of my deceased parents. However there was no reason to delay it would need doing whether I tackled it now or at a later date. Given I had no idea how long I would need to dedicate to Malachi's recovery I couldn't guarantee I would get the chance to do it after the operation.

No I had to focus on it now.

Giving things I didn't need to a local children's charity actually turned out to be fairly therapeutic and it felt like I was giving a little back for all the care Malachi had received. They were grateful for the donations.

I let Aunt Cam come and see if she wanted anything from Mum's ornaments. I had never been a collector of knick-knacks to me they just posed as another thing that needed dusting. I was more taken with lovable art. I had only a few pieces but they were all must haves. I was told once that you should only choose a piece of art if you love it and have to have it. Disregard who painted it as that wasn't important, it was whether you fell in love with it that mattered.

My parents didn't have any loveable art. They didn't share my outlook.

However I think if you Googled all things you would see in a house in the 1970/80's that would be a credible list at what I was faced with now.  I laughed warmly at finding a Cabbage Patch Doll that had seen better days but remembering how much I wanted and loved that doll.