As you may know I hate New Year. But to be honest...I kind of want this year over. It's not been all bad. In fact on the whole it's been quite fantastic. Lots of new things. Lots of time off. And lots of lovely places visited. But there were some very difficult times:
On the flip-side:
And although I am happy that this year is coming to an end...the start to 2018 is going to be frantic, difficult, emotional and exhausting. In January, I have two more trips to Switzerland - that's two more return EasyJet flights and 6 more nights in a hotel. Then 10 days in Norway. In that wonderful cabin. With reindeer and moose for company. As soon as we get back from the arctic circle it will be full speed ahead packing the house up for the BIG move. Leaving Altrincham. To become Welsh. And my contract has been extended to the end of March (unconfirmed in writing...but offered). So no sooner do we land in Wales...I'll be back to Lausanne. The elephant in the room The big, big issue amidst all this planning is Joe. My 22-year old son. The one who breaks my heart often. Who tests my resilience and bank balance. Who plays sad songs to me. Who makes me want to hold on and not let go. Who makes me laugh. Who frustrates me. Whom I adore. The move to Wales means major changes for Joe. We're disrupting his life too. I was kind of naive I guess. I thought that there was a suitable alternative for him. But it seems there isn't. So...what do we do. We can't undo the move - it is full steam ahead. And to be honest I really don't want to. I am excited about the move. I can't wait to have that view everyday. The fresh air. The smell of cow poo. But until we have resolved Joe's situation I can't think straight. I am constantly on the verge of breaking down. Please don't think..."he's 22..he should be living his own life". He's my boy. He feels I am deserting him. He's in limbo. He's stressed. We have no idea where is going to live come 2 March. He will always have a home with me...wherever. But I can't expect him to come live with the sheep. Almost a comical idea. If I wasn't so bloody worried. So what the hell do we do. Where does he live. My head is screaming right now. Help me. Seriously. I want to be happy...look forward to the next chapter. But I can't. I hate to type this but I just want it to stop. I'm not sure I can put a brave face on for much longer. How did I get to 51 years old and still feel controlled by someone else. If I could turn back the clock... Less of that...some of my favourite (scariest and saddest) memories from 2017...
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DebbieMe, my life, my family and my travels Archives
November 2022
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