Now this was an extremely difficult day.

On the day James died his former home, that had been sold subject to contract, was due to complete, but in a cruel twist of fate it hadn’t gone through so it remained unsold.

Over the past few weeks I’d been helping James pack up the house and clear out anything remaining. We ended up filling 2 8yd builders skips of things that were not wanted and we’d arranged to hire a van to move his and his sons possessions into storage. Unfortunately, this still needed to be done so I hired a large van and his eldest son and myself went to the house to start the process. Luckily, we only had use of the van for the day so we had to get on with the job but the moment we arrived I knew it wasn’t going to be easy. Not the physical work but the mental struggle of going into his house knowing he wasn’t there.

Everyone’s house has its own smell and as soon as I walked in I was hit by a mixture of his aftershave combined with washing powder and his house smell. It actually took me a second because it was so overwhelming. To the right was an empty lounge with just on old settee that he’d been using and the blue blanket that he used to wrap himself up in whilst lying on the sofa. His bed lay empty upstairs with bed sheets crumpled on top. A chair to the side with cushions and blankets strewn over it. The bed was so big that it needed cutting up to remove it which broke the silence as I had to use a power saw to do it.

During the morning his Son’s friends arrived to lend a hand and we had the van filled by just after dinnertime, ready to be taken to Mom and dad’s house and a friends garage. I have never been as glad to get away from somewhere as I was that day. The emotions were just too much at times and I was glad when, at 16:30 that day, I dropped the keys back at the rental company and made my way back home.