In my now temporary four-week life of cutting hedges on the trunk road
My area get quite a lot of time to have a good old think.
If the truth be told I’m actually quite enjoying doing this sort of work. Wage saying as the “other” job that was offered to me and then subsequently taken away but ultimately this is way more fulfilling. Perhaps it’s because we get quite a lot of downtime lol.
Anyways the one thoughts that has been plaguing my mind is the fact I’m never going home again.
Imagine that for a seconds. The place where you grew up and the family that you is all of a sudden gone.
Granted that perhaps most people reading this are in long-term relationships now but it should still be quite a thought experiment.
This is what hitting me hard this week is knowing that with dad gone I’m never going to go back to the village he lived in.
Although I always felt a little bit out of place and out of sync with the village I knew that’s where my dad lived. To be told for some reason I never felt comfortable or settled there.
I honestly can’t put my finger on this strange feeling I get when I went back there. I mean why would I? Its not like I spent a significant part of my life there.
I only have a few scarce childhood memories of living back in the village. My main one being at the age of five or six my mum taking me to school in a white car asking me who I wanted to live with, her or dad. What a decision to have to make at such a young age
If it’s anything like my last 10 years of decision-making that was one hell of a bad choice.
Anyways when dad told me a couple years ago that he was going to build a small extension to give me a home I finally felt that was the right time to go home. That’s where my half sister was, my dad and I felt like for once I might have been able to be part of my family for once.
The plan was that whilst my dad’s wife and my half sister were on holiday we would build this and I would move in so there would be no objections.
Being slap bang by The M5 and the M4 It would also mean my job opportunities would exponentially increase. I spoke to dad about all of this two weeks before his untimely demise.
With him gone my dream and his dream was gone as well but like I said to him he was always going to go and leave something unfinished.
Is it better to have a dream and to risk having a dream taken away from you or not to dream at all?