Yesterday I swung from one task to the next, achieving nothing, starting stuff and then wandering in another direction and finding myself doing something completely different. Trying to restart the first one again then discovering task number three or four. I left the water running into the sink and forgot to put the water on for the spaghetti. I visited Manu about six times and got all upset because I could not get a decent picture of him. I rearranged bales of hay for no apparent reason. I forgot to feed the chickens.
I did not really settle until I began helping Hugo pack. He did not need help packing but I could not focus on anything else. So I packed and repacked his suitcase.
I forgot to take photographs until the light was almost gone instead I sat on the basement steps and listened to the dryer dry the last of his clothes. Then I listened to the rain, then I sorted through the bottles in the cellar until I unearthed a bottle of red and poured myself a glass. Then I forgot I had poured myself a glass of wine and made a cup of tea.
He asked for spaghetti bolognese with a ” Lot of – Lot of .” Meat for his last dinner.
Molly and Tahiti watched me walk to and fro in the evening with an empty bucket. They are always up on their back legs, front feet on the gates watching – “Don’t you have something to do?” I said to them.” No, Miss C,” they said. “Why don’t you go and play in your garden then.” I said. “We did that already.” they said. Then they watched me walk back to the house with my empty bucket. It started to rain.
Hugo said that when we part in the airport I should say Goodbye, then close my eyes, and when I open them again he will be gone. “Easier that way.” he said.
Who the hell said Parting is such Sweet Sorrow. Juliet. Silly girl. There is nothing sweet about sorrow.
But my world is small you know. Maybe I will go and visit one day! That is possible.
Off we go to the airport then.
Love celi
The Kitchen's Garden 
75 responses to “Pacing”
I feel very sad. Someone important to you is leaving. And all your maternal instinct is pouring into the gap. I love that about you. I love it that you poured wine and forget and went to make tea. I am like that too.
Thanks Gods. I thought I was the only one who did that – they go quite well drunk at the same time when I remember!
He’ll be back, Celi. You can count on it.
. . . and so say all of us . . . . [sing loudly three times over . . . 🙂 ! ]
I have had days like you described. It is when my brain is too full of other thoughts to settle in the moment, or when I am a bit sad and maybe just a touch depressed. Hugs and more hugs.
You offer these young people such a wonderful chance at life, C, and so much connection. They will never forget you. All these young wards you’ve ushered into the scarier world with a center shaped by the Farmy. They will go on to create their corner of the world with a little more kindness, take it a little slower, and be prone to answer first with love.
letting go and saying “Until we meet again” is so hard! No wonder you could not focus! Hugo will always be in your heart and you and the Farmy in his heart. Look at all the wonderful things Hugo and all these young adults have learned from you! Bravo!
I didn’t like the post – but I empathise. He’s been your longest and best helper, you met his family, you shared his grief over the attacks in Paris, and shared so much more. It’s okay to be so sorrowful.