It's been a bizarre week for my emotions.
As I was getting ready to return from my holiday my sister text me telling me that our Dad was in hospital. He is in his eighties and not in the best of health, not going to go into details but lets just say the journey home wasn't the best. I was upset to be leaving son and unsure what I was going to come home to.
I had got chatting to a couple in the airport departure lounge who then ended up sitting next to me on the plane. At that point I was just about holding it together. As it took off the man said to me "so what brought you to Barcelona then ? "
I don't think the sobbing wreck was quite the answer he was looking for.
Dad is better - well as better as he can be, and home.
He was allowed home on Friday so the first thing I did after work was to call him and he was out walking the dog, obviously feeling much better, he has also decided that he likes being in hospital " because they wait on you all the time ".
Yeah just don't be thinking your daughters are gonna do the same.
I have been giving some thought to asking him to move in here, his flat is on the first floor with no lift and he struggles with the stairs. He'll say no - he likes his independence, but if it gets to the point where he needs looking after it would be much easier for all of us if he was here.
He doesn't like my sofa - he gets sat on it then can't get up so if he did he would have to bring his 'special' arm chair (which would so not match my new modern room) and the dog, she's a Jack Russell.
I would be the Frasier Crane of Portsmouth.
Anyway I guess me and him will have that conversation soon. Should be interesting.
I have also been having some real mixed feelings this week.
On the one hand I am that much more comfortable with the idea of Son living so far away now that I have seen where he is for myself, and know that he is taking care of himself. I'm very happy about that. But at the same time I am SO aware of how far away he really is and can't stop feeling a bit sad and lost.
Anyone got some really big scissors I can borrow ?
I have an umbilical cord I really need to sever.
Then today, as often happens in my life I get a large dose of perspective chucked at me.
I was reminded, on Facebook of all places, that today is the one year anniversary of the death of one of my good friends sons.
If I want to see my boy I can get on a plane and do so and I can talk to him any time I want. My friend doesn't have that option.
Her son was a couple of years older then mine. His death was really a result of the lifestyle he had chosen. He was her middle son and from a young age he was always the rebel of the family, when he was 15 he lived with me and Son for a while as at that time he had decided that he no longer wanted to live at home.
Social services were saying that he had to go into care, because even though he had a loving, caring family home he was pretty much living on the streets, but he liked our house for some reason and between his Mum, Social Services and me we agreed that he could come and stay so for a while I fostered him.
For all his trouble making ways he was a real charmer, one of those kids that you couldn't help but like and although it wasn't the best of circumstance that resulted in his living with us, I am glad that I have some really good memories of him during that time.
There was car showroom at the bottom of my road that had been having some sort of promotional day and after they shut he had gone down there, that day I came home to a living room full of helium balloons and him and Son sat there talking to each other with helium voices.
I credit him with being one of two young people who my experiences of made me decide a couple of years later that I wanted to work with kids in trouble, I ended up spending six years working in children's homes.
The other was a girl I first met when I was braiding hair for a living who came to me to get hers done. She was 14 at the time, but came back again and again and also brought many of her friends to get their hair done too. We used to talk about the standard teenage angst she was going through, parents that she thought didn't understand her, boyfriends, all the things that bother youngsters, she used to joke that she didn't just come to get her hair done it was also a 6 hour counselling session.
Even though there was a huge age difference between us we became really good friends.
She grew up and when she was 19 went travelling. Whilst in Australia she wrote me a letter, thanking me for all the times I had advised her and telling me all about the places she had been. When she got back she came to see me, she was about to go to University and was aiming to become a teacher.
In 2004 she went to Thailand with friends and family for Christmas, on her return she was planning to go to Brazil and work with street children.
She never came back.
And I still have that letter.
Yeah, I miss my Son every day,
But I will see him soon.
For Holly and Chaz.
Every troubled child I worked with and helped is because of you.