After a week in Rome I feel like it’s time to go, it’s been a week of letting stuff go, thinking heavily about the past, reliving it. It’s time to leave, and to leave the memories behind.
It was lovely to experience the memories, revisit past places, remember things I didn’t know I still remembered, but I can feel it’s taking its toll a bit today. I know I’m leaving, so in a way I suppose I feel like I’m leaving parts of my mum here without me, like I should stay and think about her, keep the memories company. Like leaving here is really leaving her. I can feel her all around here, I think about her constantly, things we did, little things that happened, I don’t want to desert all this, and desert her memory. It sounds a bit mad, but kind of makes sense in my head, but I know it’s not logical. She’s not here anymore, I know that, but all the memories here are happy ones, and nearly all the ones I remember in London are still mainly all about her illness, here is different, here she was happy and doing something she enjoyed, and so was I.
There were so many things I would have liked to chat to my mum about my time here, and that’s still a sad part of all this, that she’s never going to be around for another chat, but I think I’ve got used to it now, or getting more used to it then ever, though your brain never really learns to switch off that part where you think for a split second ‘oh I’ll ask her that’, it just hits you quicker than it used to that you can’t.
There were many ghosts here, but perhaps it’s about time to say goodbye, or at least arrivederci…I’m off for a holiday!