The Holiday is over and life has slotted back into some semblance of ‘normality’. I have my set exercise classes, visit my mother, meet friends for coffee or lunch, go for walks, weather permitting and pay occasional visits to the hairdresser and beauty parlour. I also have to ‘fit in’ housework (ugh!) and gardening 🥀 While my husband is still fully employed I cook the evening meals. I keep busy.
But my life hasn’t fully ‘slotted back to normal’. My husband is working away all week and returning over weekends. This would not be worth a mention for most women, but for me, who has never lived alone, it is a big deal!
I’m not scared of burglars. I’m scared of ghosts! I have been lucky enough to get to this age without having seen one (touching wood!) but have carried this fear around with me for as long as I can remember! I’m blaming my grandmother and great grandmother! They aren’t here to defend themselves!
When I was very young my mother used to take us to visit my great grandmother and great aunt. They lived in a small, very dark house (the curtains were always drawn!) in a tiny village called Highgate, near East London. My great aunt would make my sister, brother and I sit on the kitchen floor and give us diluted orange juice and a biscuit. My brother was her favourite so his drink had more orange than water and he had an extra biscuit!
Sitting on that cold floor I could hear my great grandmother telling my mother all about her ‘visitations’. My mother used to nod and comment when applicable and then, driving home, tell us that there were no such things as ghosts! But I was never convinced!
For a few years, until I was about six or seven, we lived next door to my grandmother who had her mother’s gene. Granny also saw ghosts and ‘things’ and delighted in telling us all about them. Granny would sometimes babysit and we made sure we were at our best behaviour to avoid hearing about dire punishments which would be meted out by someone or, heaven forbid, something!
So that’s my excuse for being such a wimp and I’m sticking to it! I do, however, have ‘survival tactics’. I don’t like the house too dark or too quiet. I leave the downstairs hall light on, keep both the hall, landing and bedroom curtains open to allow for light from the street lamps and leave the radio on ‘Classic FM’! I stay up as late as I can to get really tired before I go to bed.
Unfortunately this morning, at 4:15 am, the announcer decided it was time to play Elgar’s ‘Pomp and Circumstance’. I woke up with a start and lay awake until 6:00 am when the sun began to rise above the hill and light up the wood at the bottom of our garden. The shrill of the alarm at 7:00 am was not ideal but I had an early dentist appointment so reluctantly got up, exhausted!
So I have a new challenge. For the foreseeable future I am going to be on my own during the week. I have no choice so need to get over this phobia and grow up! I’ll keep you posted ….. 👠
Jenny Burrell 