So he's gone.
No 'thank you' or something special. Just saying that I should watch my health and that's it.
He wanted a hug, but it didn't move any further than arms around me, without any feeling and not even the chance to move my head nearer.
With mixed feelings I went with one of my sons to the Ikea, to fetch some things in the sales and trying out some couches, because we need a new one.
At home I started moving his things to the laundry or somewhere else, switched on the machine and had a cup of coffee.
Still no special feelings than a slight feeling of relief.
Perhaps the time before has been enough to experience the whole array of disappointment and all those other feelings.
One of the kids asked: 'When was the last time he touched you? Like a hug or so.'
Good question....about 5 or 7 years ago, maybe even longer.
But it was a lot longer. More than 20 years.
So I feel I have done enough to make the marriage votes into investment in the relationship.
Now I'm cleaning up the mess he left. Old cans with vegetables, for instance.
Lots of packages with chips.
All the tiny bits he collected and he left on the table. Such a mess.
I feel like making the house a home again. Not only for the children who still live here or stay here when they have to work in town.
But also for me.
There's almost no money, just some I saved for the couch. Which will be a cheap one.
But it'll be a home.
Even now the weather is very cold, there's a lot of fog and we even had some snow this afternoon.
It's freezing outside...but who cares?
Here you'll find impressions of my life as a mother of a few children with autism spectrum disorder and a person with heartfailure, some critical reviews of what going on in the world, including medical issues and political subjects. And everything else that keeps me busy.
I'm very honest about my experiences with autism, because only that way I can show how much of a struggle daily life with autism can be.
A series of posts
about lack of knowledge,
lack of concensus between disciplines
and the need for a formal diagnosis
with a psychiatric label
to get support for a unique individual
autism and (no) school.
One of our true autism stories Click the image.
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