Just about anything will set me off lately, but in the main it's the thought of getting old - either Kris or I, or our families. I think underneath all the excitement of the NZ move is the nagging feeling that I'm abandoning my parents when I should really be stepping up and being here for them. After all, they've looked out for me and my brother and sister for years and it should be their turn to reap the rewards of having 3 children and 7 grandchildren around. Instead I'm taking 3 of those grandchildren and moving halfway around the world and I won't be there for them anymore, I mean I'll always 'be there' but physically I'll be thousands of miles away. I find myself having morbid 'what happens if ....' thoughts about how I'd get back to the UK in a hurry if either parent needed me to. I know millions of people have made this journey before, and they've all probably had these thoughts but sometimes the knowledge that other people have felt like this just isn't enough to allay my fears - after all, they're not me, it's not MY mum they think of, it's theirs. I feel trapped by these feelings of utter sadness because day to day at least, the life I imagined I'd have with my parents in their later years, won't be as I'd imagined.
Today's fit of 'what the f*ck are we doing?!' was set off by two elderly people coming into the office to enquire about a property. They seemed perfectly happy, and were perfectly polite but they'd recently returned from Australia, after living there for 30 years, and were just completely shell shocked by how little they could get for their money here, and how much council tax they'd need to pay (they even called it the Poll tax which shows how out the loop they were) and they just seemed so weary from the whole process. It made me realise that Kris, the children and I are stepping off the housing ladder in the UK, packing up all our worldly goods and travelling thousands of miles for a better life and we may never. ever be able to settle here again. I don't want to sound patromising but watching this old couple today made me so unbearably sad, they have no home of their own (yet .... ever the consumate saleswoman I did point them in the direction of one of our properties!) they're thousands of miles from somewhere they've called home for 30 years and are having to pretty much start again. I just felt a pang that it may be Kris and I sat there in 30 years, trying to come back and being shell shocked by how much has changed in the UK. This is my home and the thought of never being totallys ettled here again has brought out my inner scaredy cat, the one who would quite like to bury her head in the sand for the next few months and just be woken up as she steps off the plane please.
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