I Am Allowed in My Childhood Home Again and It’s Strange
My parents still live there, but the pandemic has meant I was not allowed inside.
This morning I walked over to my parent’s house. I rang the doorbell. My mum opened the door and I went in. Covid-19 restrictions eased today.
For the last few months, when I have rung the doorbell, I have only been able to have an awkward conversation on the doorstep or talk in the garden.
The house seems exactly the same. It smells the same familiar smell. There is even the same clutter around. I am drinking the same unremarkable but somehow distinctive coffee my mum makes me.
It is strange, but hard to describe. I feel the need to mark it by writing it down.
I never imagined the law could forbid me from entering my own parent’s house.