A period of stability
This is Day 8 of the 30 Day #LinkYourLife Challenge
Day 8: Describe what is outside the nearest window and how it relates to your life.
A period of stability
Life has never been stable for me. Ever since I was born. When I was one year old I was whisked off to the USSR. You could say I had my first five years, and arguably the most important years of my life behind the tough rule of the Iron Curtain in the good old USSR. No, I’m not a spy or a Communist as the Scottish young locals would joke at my expense when I moved back in with my Gran. After Mum and Dad split up. Back to Scotland. It wasn’t over, though,
We moved from Grans to Kirkcaldy, from Kirkcaldy to Thornton and then back to Leven, but not my Grans. We moved back to Grans after living in Leven for a year, and then we moved up to the Council estate where we lived in three different houses. And the Schools. Shit. I have people I still search for now because I miss them. From 32 years ago. I had worked up so many solid friendships in Thornton. We lived there for two years. I went to school there. I would love to hook up with Andrew, Grant, Bruce, Alison, Lynn, and Matthew. I’d love to see their happy faces as I friend them on facebook again, reconnecting after many, many years. But I can’t. I can’t find them.
I miss my friends.
Mum finally got the idea after a while, though. Eventually. After tearing me away from Thornton and the damage it did to my social life, we were in Leven to stay. I had School, I needed friends, and stability. Yet we always had itchy feet. New houses, new areas, always different. Never in a house for more than three years. I guess I can’t complain, we were a single family and with the rising prices of housing, we couldn’t afford the prices in the end. We had to move. And move often we did.
But I always went to the same School. From the age of seven, I finished School with my new friends. We waited it out until 16 and beyond. Believe it or not, I’ve held some friends for thirty years. In some ways, I feel sorry for them, haha. But, it’s me that’s the lucky one. That they’ve blessed my life for thirty years, never wavering, staying strong even with the amount of crap that I’ve been through, and put them through.
And yet you won’t find a picture of me before 2007. My life didn’t exist before 2007. If you tried you may find an employers slip or a document scattered about, oh, and three Censuses! But as for visual and material evidence, apart from my dope-burned 16-year-old football top, the one I wore when Raith Rovers won the Scottish League Cup, nothing. Mum threw it all out. It was a reminder to her of the men she once dated. But she didn’t realise that she was getting rid of my memories too. My childhood. Even the collectables that Gran and Grandad kept before they passed, gone.
I swear I have nothing. Not a family home to go back to when I visit, or a little comforter I would use to soothe my anxiety, or even something as simple as a comfortable spot on a sofa. Gone, gone. Gone. Mum sold Gran and Grandads house when the time came. To say that I’m bitter about it is an understatement. That should have been a home that was kept in our family until there were no more memories left to share. That house was my other home. It had ALWAYS been there. Gran and Grandad had lived there since before time was invented!
Yet I recognise it’s not my place to be bitter. It was entrusted to Mum and it was hers to do as she pleases. And she wanted a bigger and better house, which is fair play in all honesty. Their new house is beautiful. Bought it outright. It’s very nice, light and relaxing. I just miss my domain! I have no domains anymore.
It breaks me to a level because I am at the age now where I want to take my wife up to my old house and show her the silly things my friends and I would do as children, or show her the silly photo’s I have as a stupid teen, mashed up on cider, or the cute spot in the garden where I hid my green, plastic army men. I’d love to show all this to my Son. But I can’t.
My Aunts and Uncles still have the photos, though, and the memories and the houses to fit. They have it all. But it’s only tid bits. I feel that my childhood has been swiped from under my feet. I have nothing to show for it. And it hurts being the sentimental person that I am.
So that’s why when I look out of the window to the left of me I see our well-kept garden. I see a long period of stability and unwavering strength. I see a loving family and long lasting togetherness. We’ve lived here for six years now. Soon to be seven. This house is all that Alex has known, and I hope it’s all he ever will know. I see a family that puts their child first and has recognised the blatant abuses in their lives. Turned theirs around so that we don’t continue it with our son. I can see a long and happy life for Alex, one that he can feel stable at School, make tons of friends and never need to worry about making new ones in a new area.
I see stability
A period of stability
Lots and lots of stability.