It’s funny how holding onto things has given me comfort over six years. I recently packed up our lives, put everything in boxes and moved. For happier times already, really good times and so beyond where I thought we could ever be. In the process though I noted how many things of colin, of our old life, have been simply around us as we moved forwards over the past six years. These have been a comfort. If the girls say ‘I need something of Daddy’s to help me go to sleep’ they’ve been on hand – photos, T-shirts, sweaters, coats, panda – they were all hanging there in my closet and in or on my bedside table.
I’d done my research. I didn’t need to be told. Those things were good for my girls to have on standby for them to connect with a dad they couldn’t remember. I packed them meticulously so that in our new life they would still be at arms length for those ‘moments’. But what I hadn’t addressed was me.
I haven’t written a post here for so long. I’m happy. I’m happier than I’ve been in so long it’s not something I can put in words. I’ve held onto dates. I’ve held onto friends. I’ve held onto his driver’s licence and his passport and travelled with them every time abroad. But most of all, it seems today, I’ve held onto the car he most likely had his last moments in.
We had a car. It was small and old. A Volkswagon Golf. Colin, Evie and I fitted it ok. But when I was pregnant again with the bump that became Isla we thought of the future. When we bought our new family car in December 2011 it was our future. Little did we know when we signed all the paperwork that in 13 weeks Col would die, most likely last moments at the wheel of that car.
I’ve adored that car. I’ve told so many stories to the girls about daddy and that beast of a Nissan. I’ve held the driving wheel on bad days and thought his hands held here for those last moments…. so I am close to you/him.
Today I sold it. It’s been a journey. I was so happy to sell it after a lot of salesman rubbish. But ultimately I have just said goodbye to something very solid that was ours. Something I could see us in with our kids even when he wasn’t there. Goodbye my car. Goodbye old car. Goodbye ‘our’ car. I’ve taken photos. You can’t hang it in a closet. You can’t be in my bedside table to comfort the girls. But they weren’t sad today. It is me who has these connections to things. If they need a T-shirt they still have one. If they need panda he is still there. I don’t need to keep the car he died in to keep him alive….But I did take one last photo to remember. Our time. Our future. It changed hon, But I will always love you. x