I cannae believe it!

Some good news for little ol' me in this world of turmoil and apprehension. My husband and I are off to bonnie Scotland for two weeks holiday. I can hardly believe I am writing this. I did not think it would ever happen. So many hurdles to climb and balls to juggle. So much so, I have felt ill this past week. I also burnt my hand causing a nasty and very painful wound. And, yesterday, I had had to get out of the house as I could not physically stand being anywhere near my dad any longer. He had blown up about carrots on his plate at lunchtime. So I had desperately needed to escape his energy-sapping energy field. I messaged my husband to meet me in a restaurant in the village. I needed to be comforted.

[Do you also think food tastes better when someone else has made it, or is it just me? I think really, I appreciate the fact I do not have to do the cooking!]

Friends have been overwhelming in their joy for me. It will be my first fortnight's holiday since 2005. That is a very long time. When I think back to the years when I was in my twenties and thirties, I would have that long a holiday each year.

Friends have also asked whether I am excited. I suppose those who see me face to face wonder why there is no flicker of happiness or eager anticipation in my expression. I have previously written about this, so I will keep it short. My brain still seems conditioned to dismiss any feelings of excitement until the event actually happens. It comes from my childhood. There would be a big build up to a holiday or an event with my dad being so excited but with that came a surge of aggression and anger towards my Mum and me. Then, when we actually went on the holiday; we would have a terrible time with him and he would spoil the whole experience. It always seemed like he could never be truly happy and therefore, we should not either.

So I learnt very early on that excitement did not mean a happy time would be had. That has stuck with me. Once we have arrived at our first destination, I know I will be relieved and relaxed and a flicker of joy will ignite in me.

I am leaving my dad in highly capable hands. He has his morning carer who is also going to pop in at other times a few days each week even though he does not want her to come. He says he can look after himself. Methinks differently. A neighbour will casually drop by every now and again. Another neighbour who is a retired nurse will be his evening carer. And I have managed to find (with the help of a lovely friend), an overnighter who is actually a house and petsitter so this will be very different for her. But she is willing and able to human-sit too. Food is in, his meds are sorted, the dogs are going to the daycare hotel for their holibobs and I am exhausted. All I need to still do is pack all my layers for the chillier climes.

It is a holiday inspired by my wonderful Mum. We are going first to her ancestral home in the wilds of the Highlands so I can immerse myself in that very special place. Then over to one of the larger islands. I have not been there since I was nine. I have a vivid, terrifying memory of a time there so I am hoping to reframe those childhood fears and have an especially happy time there this time.

I am looking forward to it, just in a subdued way. I really need the huge open skies, the stunning scenery of lochs and mountains and of course, my favourite - the sea.