i didn't inherit much from my parents, and i guess a big part of that was not being able to travel during covid.
i'll probably never forget coming home to an empty house and a skip full of memories outside. don't get me wrong, my brother did a shit ton of work cleaning up, and i was no help at all—i just know i would have nabbed more things if i'd been able to be there.
one of the few things that fell into my hands is an old deck chair, and a foot stool. i have countless memories of curling up by the fireplace as a child, or sitting with my dad as he chain smoked his way through an anecdote in later life. it's one of the few things that's been in my life as long as i can remember, and now it's in my home.
anyway.
i live with three cats, and all of them have made their home in the deck chair. seeing them curl up and get comfortable in the chair is hard to put into words.
it makes me happy, and it also makes me wistful. i see the cats getting comfy and i think about all the times i've been comfy, sitting in front of a warm fireplace. it also reminds me that home, well, the home i grew up in, isn't there any more.
it also makes it feel like home, too
