The youngest member of our family is away. Even the cats appear to miss her. Prior to her departure the short-haired cat slept on her pile of half-packed things, giving every impression of knowing that the suitcase symbolised imminent separation. Pack me too.
Last night, youngest’s first night away, the long-haired cat was unsettled and spent her usually calm ‘bedtime’ pacing and wailing piteously. Being creatures of habit the youngest and the long-furred-one go to bed at the same time and drift off to sleep together. It was difficult to discount the idea that last night she was pining for her night-time companion.
Me, I am the master of the displacement activity. Before she left, what I wanted to do was to keep her home from school, to spend every last second holding her tight, squeezing out any doubts or fear. What I actually did was clean the house. And mow the lawn. And knit. And sew. On a very practical level this meant that she had a new washbag to hold her tiny toiletries.
On a very impractical but quite cute and cuddly level, we now have a woolly sheep called Sheila who sits on her pillow awaiting her return. If those displacement activities continue she may well return to a sizable flock.
Do you ever worry that you talk about sewing and all things yarn-y just a touch too much? In the final moments before she boarded the coach she wobbled a little and I impressed upon her that although we would not be close by we would still be with her.
” Our love for you is stitched into your heart and you carry it with you always.”
“And it can never be unpicked.”
“No my darling, it can never be unpicked”
pennylibrarian 