Just a few hours after saying goodbye to Mungo, I was saying goodbye to Spadge, Shanna & Chikkin at the airport. I must've looked a right state. I held my composure until it was time to hand over my beautiful sleeping granddaughter to her parents. She'd fallen asleep in my arms about fifteen minutes before they had to go through for boarding & I savoured every single precious second I had with her. Saying goodbye to my son is always emotional - but now - with him having a family of his own - the emotions just seem to double & triple in size. I hate the not knowing - not knowing when I'm going to see him again, not knowing when I'll see Shans & Chikkin again. So saying goodbye to them at the airport was bloody 'orrible to say the least.

I went home to a very empty house. No family, no Mungo. I had a good bawl, to myself & for myself, lit another fag, made a coffee & then got cracking with packing. A few hours later, one of Spadge's mates (Stu) came with some of his labourers & put all of our furniture into the granny flat. Mum & dad came around to help & I thought I was doing quite well in holding my composure. Then one of the labourers came through from grandma's bedroom, holding a picnic basket*. He asked me if he must also put it in the flat. I just cracked again - cried "oh shit, that's grandad" & crumpled into a heap of snot 'n tears. I couldn't wait for that day to be over.

Over the next couple of days, I finished emptying the house, got the carpets cleaned, changed curtains & washed doors & walls. I got rid of a heap of junk.............including medical aid statements from 1992......somminc I'm still trying to figure out.........why on earth I kept them so long in the first place??!! Broken telephones, bits of wire, old flowerpots, rusty spark-plugs, old brake pads, empty paint cans..........why the hell did we keep all of this stuff? I had a good clear out, but I guarantee Hubs will ask me one day where something is & I'll have to wrack my sludge to think if I threw it out!

I stayed with my mum & dad for the last few days before leaving to come back here. It was so nice honestly......they almost pampered me bless them. They knew I was emotionally fragile, especially after Mungo & they did their best in lifting my spirits. Gogo, the folks parrot, said "where's Jayne?" a few times, which made me smile, cos I'd only heard the folks telling me he could say it. He also took me for a twit by saying "oy Jayne?" just like my dad says it & naturally I got up to find me dad & ask him what he wanted me for.............only to discover dad hadn't said a word!
Me & mum went shopping together for the first time in years, which was really smashing. Dubs (mums nickname) is a very graceful looking 70yr old now & has fewer grey hairs than me I suspect (ratbag!). Pup (my dads nickname) inflicted several sick jokes on me, which is the norm for him, but he did it in an effort to cheer me up bless him. They helped me so much & I really treasured spending time with them, as it's something I rarely get to do.

I said goodbye to my empty house. I said goodby to The (Hubs') Beast - the Beemer - when me & Pup took it to it's new home in storage. I said goodbye to neighbours again & good friends, again. I said goodbye to my TEETH! I said goodbye to Dubs & Pup again, with the underlying fear of not knowing when I will see them again.

There's nothing nice about saying Goodbye.

*When Grandad died, we had him cremated. We did try once, many moons ago, to scatter his ashes in a place that he loved in (what was then) the Eastern Transvaal. We took 'him' all the way there & brought 'him' all the way home, cos none of us could physically scatter the ashes - I think it was & still is a case of not wanting to let him go. Since then, Grandad has 'lived' in a box inside the picnic basket. He got lost once when we moved house, but we tracked him down & he returned to grandma's room. He's moved wherever we have, apart from now. He's currently at home, in his box & in storage :-D