Final morning at home with my brother. We’re pretty much sorted; bags and bags to charity shop, a man has come to remove Mum’s stairlift to be reconditioned and given to someone who needs it. It was a lifesaver for Mum, meant she could stay at home for several more years. Never thought I’d need to use it though, it’s been really vital.
Another friend to pick up duvets and sheets to give to people in need and drive me back to what will now be my only home.
We sit in the garden under an impossibly blue sky and remember. I go upstairs for the last time, it seems important to mark each room, pause and remember.
Then it’s time to say goodbye to the elderly man next door.
Nearly time to go and neither of us wants to leave. So many symbolic gestures. Taking the keys to the house off my keyring, coming downstairs for the last time, final washing up.
Before we go, lunch in the neighbourhood cafe. And then we’ll both drive off with the boot full of memories and oddments.