The Days I Went Quiet (and Why the Attic Door Needed Closing)
I disappeared for a few days.
Not in a “mysterious writer retreat” kind of way -
more in a “real life arrived without knocking and sat on my chest” kind of way.
If you’ve ever wondered where someone goes when they stop posting, the answer is usually: inside their own head.
A piece of family news landed unexpectedly.
We found out that our grandmother’s house - the one full of memories, creaky floors, and family history - had been sold. Quietly. Recently.
It turned out it had been gifted away to our auntie some time ago, during years when our grandmother wasn’t quite herself anymore.
That knowledge hit harder than I expected.
Not because of bricks and walls -
but because it felt like a part of our family story had been edited out without our permission.
I went quiet because I was angry.
The kind of anger that makes you rehearse conversations while folding laundry.
The kind that reorganises cupboards at midnight like it’s a perfectly reasonable coping strategy.
Somewhere between the second cup of coffee and my child asking,
“Can houses miss people?”
-I realised this wasn’t really about a house at all.
It was about grief that never quite finishes.
About loved ones who aren’t here to defend their place in the story anymore.
About how unfair life can feel when you discover things too late.
And yet, life kept going.
Dinner still needed cooking.
School bags still needed checking.
And laughter still found its way in - usually at the most unexpected moments.
Slowly, the anger softened. Not gone - just quieter.
Less sharp. More manageable.
So if you noticed the silence, that’s why.
I was in the attic.
Opening old boxes. Closing some gently.
Leaving others for another day.
I’m back now - still human, still learning how to carry hard things without letting them harden me.
The attic light is on again.
You’re always welcome here ❤️
Just so you know: I’m going through some shit too - but I still choose hope, humour, and looking for the light where I can ❤️
Comments
Post a Comment