It’s sunny, with a slight chill in the air here in Fife but it is nevertheless beautiful. I spent the morning catching up with blog posts and saying a Happy Easter to my friends on Facebook. Then I signed off but when I checked my emails later there were several concerned comments and messages to my posts:
“Catching up with ex colleagues (friends) recently has made me quite nostalgic for times that will never be quite the same again.”
I’d just been back down south. I drove down taking a boot full of stuff but my intention was to go to my ex Head of Department’s leaving do.
‘I bet I’m the only person who has driven 300 miles to be here,’ I said as I breezed in. After 7.5 hours on the road down the A1, fifteen minutes to freshen up and then twenty minutes more behind the wheel to Luton ~ I was doing pretty well.
‘You’re looking very relaxed,’ one ex colleague said.
‘Comatosed more like,’ I smiled at her, then we nattered as if the year had not just passed by.
I was thinking about my place of work until last July when I posted the next comment on Facebook:
“Life is funny. Sometimes it changes in such a gentle way that you barely notice the difference but at others it’s like tearing apart a wear-worn well-loved garment into shreds. My hope is that the right person comes along and lovingly stitches some of the pieces together again into a new patchwork quilt!”
I’d been reading ‘The Last Runaway’ by Tracey Chevalier, so patchwork quilts were also on my mind. Unfortunately some of my Facebook friends though it was a reflection on my personal life. I suppose our dilemma could be tough, but not in the way some guessed. One friend praised me for writing the post though! I love metaphors!
My third post was:
“New lives, new beginnings, exciting times – looking forwards and not backwards.”
Leading to more concern until I finally posted:
“Wishing everyone a Happy Easter Weekend!”
Ah well, it just goes to show how careful you must be when posting on social media that you are not misinterpreted!
It is now a wet August back in Bedfordshire, and several months since I originally wrote this post. I’m watching the birds flit between the trees rather than the sea ebb and flow on the Firth of Forth. Still so many decisions to make and no nearer making them.
When your husband or partner retired were you thrown into confusion or did you continue cheerfully in a parallel course? Why am I finding it so very hard?