My nan moved to a flat and out of the “family bungalow” about 6 years ago yet, for some reason, when I thought about visiting my nan today I was thinking of going to said bungalow.
I have loads of extremely happy memories from the bungalow; including hundreds of my grandad who died before my nan moved out. However, I also have unpleasant memories from it and I’m realistic to know that the building is just bricks.
Having said that, when I found out she was selling the bungalow I was fuming. I had spent a lot of my childhood there and it felt like a second home to me. I would go there after school when my mum was working late and I’d had learnt to ride a bike in the back garden.
But without my grandad it wasn’t the same.
Her new flat, whilst spacious and light, is missing a presence for me.
Similarly, I’m drawn to Derby where my paternal grandmother lives and where my dad spent a lot of time.
I was talking to a friend recently and I expressed a yearning to go to Derby, even though I don’t feel like going there fulfils me.
“You’re looking for your dad.”, she said “But he’s not there.”
It’s true. He’s not there. Pictures of him are scattered everywhere and half of the person who created him is there but he isn’t.
I stopped myself from making a last minute hotel booking in Derby recently and the yearning to go has gone.
I feel like Derby is where I run away to when my actual life (the monotony of work and the stress of relationships) gets too much.
So how do I find peace with all of this loss and no substance to fill the space?