So, last Thursday I went to Suffolk. I haven't felt like writing about it until now, because I was visiting my parents' grave on the first anniversary of my Mum's death. 

It has been a tough year. We cleared Mum's house and sold it within three months, but I'm still dealing with some of the stuff that came from it. But, more importantly, I'm slowly adapting to living without the reassurance of my parents being there. OK, I'm a grown man in my 30s, but somehow the thought that, if everything went wrong, I could retreat to my parents', regroup and start again gave me a sense of a safety net. 

That net is gone.

The year of mourning is gone. Time to face the rest of my life.