Emotional decorating

Today has been such a busy day. I woke up reasonably early and wrote a hearty to-do list, full to the brim with things I needed to do to feel organised in the house for me and the girls, and to finally tackle some unfinished jobs that have been lingering for far too long.

I started the day as Mum’s taxi, first collecting my eldest daughter from her friend’s house. She was home for barely three hours before another friend arrived to pick her up for a night out on the town. In that short window, the house felt briefly full and then suddenly quiet again.

With the day moving quickly, I turned my attention to the back bedroom — the coldest room in the house. I repainted it all white (the ceiling can wait for another day) because I have a vision for it. I want it to feel calm and restorative, a peaceful retreat. Crisp white with a pop of pale blue, like the Italian coast meeting the Mediterranean Sea. Emotional decorating, perhaps — painting not just walls, but a future feeling.

I then decided, perhaps a little ambitiously, to move a double wardrobe from my bedroom into that room. A job and a half doesn’t even begin to cover it. I must be made of steel — although the gym is clearly paying off. How else would I have managed that on my own?

Amongst all this productive organising, I joined my mum to sell Dad’s car. That part of the day carried a very different weight. It was deeply emotional doing something he should have been here to do with us. Parting with it felt like another quiet goodbye. The buyer, however, was kind, professional, patient, and showed genuine empathy towards us both. Another first for Mum and me — and as always, we supported each other through it. I am so proud of her. She is dealing with so much, yet she always finds strength somewhere deep inside. I will always stand by her and help in any way I can.

This evening softened gently. My youngest and I ordered an Italian, which was absolutely delicious, and then she treated herself to a pamper in the bath. We curled up together afterwards and watched a catch-up of Saturday Kitchen, gathering inspiration for tomorrow’s Sunday lunch. I’ve updated tomorrow’s list (because lists are my comfort right now) and I’m heading for an early night.

I’ll try to sleep, despite the familiar mix of worry and anxiety that comes with being a mother whose daughter is out on the town. How do you ever fully relax when your heart is walking around outside of your home? Today has been productive, emotional, tiring, and meaningful — a day of decorating rooms, memories, and feelings all at once.