The Past

It's not like me at all to dwell on the past or even to give much of the past more than a second's thought but on Sunday as I walked up the staircase to my Nan's flat I realised that would probably be the last time I smelled that smell. She died three weeks ago today and I think it is just hitting me. The death I coped with, I knew it was coming, I'd prepared myself. At the funeral I held my 18 year old sister against my chest while she sobbed as the curtains drew around the coffin and the music played. I am not one for waterworks, not usually. But it's the little things that get to me, the birthday card, written by my Mum because she was too ill to write it made me weep, that smell of her flat, not a bad smell just one I've only ever encountered in that particular building. Her flat now empty except for the last few bin bags, the last few bags of the things she bought "just in case", the extra toaster, microwave, kettle, mini oven, the last of the souvenir cocktail sticks found lying in the back of a cabinet.

My heart is heavy . I'd forgotten how this feels. I just wish I didn't have to remember it.