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”