Bitter/sweet

Life never ceases to amaze me by presenting scenarios which would appear far fetched in a film or book.

The final signing for taking legal possession of the house was scheduled for 3pm Friday 13th. But on Thursday morning the care home in England phoned to say that my mother was causing concern. By mid-morning it appeared that she only had hours to live. I was able to organise the Notaire to allow me to sign by proxy which I did in the afternoon and, at 6pm, I set off in the french car to drive back to be with her.

I didn't make it. At 11.30pm they called me on my mobile to say that Mum had slipped away peacefully at 11pm. Is it strange to say that I was unable to feel sad? In many ways Mum had finally got what she wanted. She had increasingly talked of 'going off to find somewhere where I can be me'. During the summer she had walked miles looking for this Shangri-la. As I was driving through the open french countryside in bright moonlight, the sky was full with stars. To my right Chartres cathedral was floodlit, shining like a beacon to guide lost souls. As I looked up into the sky I tried to see two stars close together, for I felt that once again, Mum and Dad would be together again.

It seems incredibly ironic that our move to sever ties with our old life should become complete with the passing of my mother at exactly the same time as we sign for our new home.