I am very tired after a looong day at work. It seems after so many years of working that I feel depleted. It was never about enriching myself, just making sure the family was healthy and all their needs were taken care off. The family included myself, husband, two children, my beloved parents and the animals.

My mother died suddenly in January 2003, something that I bottled up. It is in a tight corner of my mind, like the pressure bandage my daughter described keeping the pain of her secret under control. Now that she has left home, I realise she was the pressure bandage keeping the loss of my mother at bay. I miss my mother, and I miss my daughter. There is no female company at home.

I posted a poem on my blog yesterday describing how I realise I must let go. Sometimes the situation of parenting makes little sense to me. Ever since the children were born and adored by myself and the greater family, I have been constantly told to lighten up, give them space, cut the umbilical cord and set them free. I must not worry about them so much. Indeed they are on loan. I have given them all my unconditional love, it has been so easy. The pain is in the parting.

This past week we have had some terrible losses in the valley. Two toddlers succumbed to unnatural deaths, totally unexpected and shocking. There have been some awful road accidents with tragic consequences. I am aware that we are not supposed to take on the troubles of the world, but every sad event leaves me feeling gutted. I know I must let go. Am I the only one who finds it so difficult. I feel terrible angst for the bereavements reported daily.

I can't let go. So I wrote a poem, trying to make sense of what I am feeling. I then posted it on Facebook (privately) to my daughter. I explained that we did not have a big send-off, as moving away with a boyfriend is not like a traditional occasion. I am obviously brought up on the special occasions, let's celebrate, but this leaving was so low-key there was no sense of satisfaction of closure. Nothing. Just a see you at Christmas. Yeah, right, then there will be the tug of love of his family or ours for the Christmas dinner.

I am a quiet person and always doing my best for anyone who might appreciate it. I want to go to bed at night with a clear conscience. I do not want anyone to think that they need to repay me for anything. As a married couple we have pulled our weight equally. No days off for me, I studied in my forties when I realised the career needed rebooting for financial reasons. We have been fortunate enough to be able to get on with our lives with the old adage of "hard work never killed anyone"

Aha, but it has left me old. My daughter replied to the poem and reassured me that she would be back, and nothing was cast in concrete. She threw in a compliment about us being awesome parents. My reply was that she was dealing with a post menopausal mother, and this is what we do when the hormones are out of sync. We write poems and blog to get rid of the pent up emotions.

As I wrote this in the text message the tears welled up. This has been happening a lot lately. It probably has a direct link to her being 1400kms away, and my father even further away in the UK for three weeks. They are enjoying hot weather, welcoming friends and a relief from the daily grind. We are sitting in the middle of a cold spell, and the work load is as intense as ever. Got to love family, it's all relative?

Either the sun will come out tomorrow, or I am off to get some hormone tablets, umm or something to turn off the water tap.

Nobody said it would be easy.

Take care,

Love from Eve