Well, turns out I might re post yet another old one. Looking back, the posts I wrote in February to March of this year, 2014, were when I had come to a particular point in my feelings about the move and the place I find myself in. Instead of feeling that there was this one random place that I had come to (but equally might never have found) that was right for me, I came to feel that it was right more because I had found it or chosen it, if that makes sense. Perhaps it will to some people and not to others. But it brought a sense of liberation from bad feelings about Manchester, as I wrote about below, as well as the knowledge that I could be alright even if I were not here – also important.
We have been in Manchester this past weekend. The drive over the Pennines and back again can be slow, but there are glimpses of beautiful countryside to be had from the van windows as we pass – a few of which form today’s gallery above.
We have spent time with friends, daughter and grandchildren, all people very dear to us. Each encounter has been important, and fun, and yet I still find it unsettling being back where we used to live. Every bit of it is so familiar, it induces a kind of panic in me. It seems as though the new life, Heckington, is but a dream and I have not managed to leave after all.
On the way home I mused about why I find it so hard to go back. I think my separation from the place throws into relief the feelings of being trapped, stuck and…
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