It’s hard to know where to begin; after years of prayer about family moving closer, in March our daughter called to ask if they could move in with us. They being: herself, husband and three boys. As you can well imagine, D.H and I were overjoyed, but once the euphoria had worn off, the hard work had to begin. We needed to down size all of our possessions into three rooms, and turn the rest of the flat into a home fit for two adults and three small boys.
It’s unbelievable the things that we keep, thinking that we might use them one day. Anyway, after several trips to charity shops and the tip, we were in a position to see the whole wood and not just the foliage, if you get my drift.
Weeks into turning our huge living space of twelve years into one large and one small flat, it suddenly dawned on me that I would have to rationalise my wardrobes. The thought hit me one afternoon at work, and I don’t want to sound melodramatic.
(“What you Annie; melodramatic, never!” I can just hear you saying), but when the thought came to me, it actually did take my breath away. I had to sit down for a moment and take in the full implications of saying yes to darling daughter. For one mad moment I thought about giving her a call and saying that the whole thing was off. I soon regained my composure and came to my senses, realising that spending time with our grandchildren was far more important than seven wardrobes full to the brim with beautiful clothes. And yes my dearest friend, you read that right — seven wardrobes — and don’t get me going on the chest of drawers, boxes of shoes, etc.
Mother’s words were ringing in my ears, “You’ll regret it, you see if you don’t. Plus I was thinking of moving in with you and D.H, now that that scheming Mildred Small has moved away.”
Let me bring you up to shove; It turned out that Mildred Small’s admirer, (The Gentleman she met on a cruise with mother) was a con-man after all. Just, not in the way that Mother thought. The truth of the matter was that he is a multi millionaire and he was playing skint so that he didn’t end up with a gold digger. When he found out that Mildred was in love with him and not his money (which by the way she had no idea he had), he proposed and whisked her away to his villa in the south of France. Mother was spitting bullets for weeks, and the news that she was having thoughts of moving in with D.H and I, made down sizing all the easier. Even if it did mean that I lost a wardrobe or two.
Anyway, it turned out that I didn’t have to give up an inch of space in the end. All we had to do was down size D.H’s things. My seven wardrobes are all still intact.
Now that’s what I call answered prayer, and you can make up your own mind if I mean daughter moving in, mother not moving in, or wardrobes not moving out.