Getting Packed

Mattie and I are going back to the UK for a visit in a few days. ‘The thought of going back feels surreal,’ she said today, as we ate the barbecue that Mike had prepared. ‘Whenever I think about it, life in the UK going on as usual without me there seems surreal, too,’ I replied.
Mattie has now entered my study, where I am writing this blog, wearing her swimming suit – I had suggested that during our trip, she might want to go swimming with her cousin Mei, and Mattie wanted to ensure that it was still a good fit. Not only is Mattie’s cousin high on her priority list of people to see, but her birth sister as well. It was only when Mattie said she wanted to see her sister as soon as possible after our arrival that I realised how strong that bond still is.
We are both excited about going back to England. Our holiday of two and a half weeks will certainly be a trip down memory lane. The two guys who bought my old house have invited us in to see it. Mattie particularly wants to see her old bedroom, in the attic. I am interested in how the house ‘feels’. How will it feel to be in the kitchen, or up in my old bedroom, looking out over the Downs? I have many good memories of my time there and a few not so good, too. I do know that the handsome old brick wall separating my old house and the neighbouring one recently collapsed. Now that is something I am glad to have avoided.
‘You’ll probably find everything seems very small,’ my elderly father said to me on the ‘phone when he first heard we were coming over, and I remembered a friend of mine once comparing Lewes to Enid Blyton’s Toy Town. I do know that things are never the same when one returns after a long time away. Several neighbours in the high street, where I lived, have since moved – to nursing homes, other towns, or downsized. My parents, too, are in the process of moving within Worthing, having decided that they no longer wish to look after a house with a large front and back garden at the foot of the Downs. It feels like the end of an era when one’s parents indicate their preference for a ground-floor flat in the town centre rather than the detached houses that they have lived in for most of their lives. During our stay with them, I shall therefore ensure that I walk up to Cissbury Ring as often as I can, for of all the Downland walks I have experienced in my life, that one tops the lot. I just hope it won’t be too muddy after the recent rains. Dare I even look at the weather chart before I go?

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