I’ve spent the past few days in a cabin in Scotland with my family, no internet, and no cellphone reception. I was tempted to write “stuck with my family” but that sounded a little extreme, as it wasn’t all bad.
It was only somewhat bad.
Wait. Backtrack.
My father drove us – my mother, my sister and myself – up to Rowardennan on Thursday. It was an extremely long drive, just over six hours in total, most of it motorway. It was very dull and very exhausting just to be a passenger, and I imagine it took its toll on my father too. We stopped three times and even then, I still felt cramped and sick. (We got to stop at the famous Tebay services though which yay?)
Once we got there we settled into our cabin. Which isn’t as pokey as it sounds. We had rented this cabin/lodge just by the Rowardennan Hotel. There was a whole group of these cabins located on the shore of Loch Lomond, with their own little private beach area and jetty. The lodge was roomy and full of character – three rooms, big bathroom, big lounge/kitchen/living area and large balcony with a view of the mountains in the distance. The bedding and cushions were all themed over deer, highland cattle, sheep and foxes. The walls were exposed wood, the ceilings and floors too. It was kind of awesome. We settled in, and then my sister and I ventured to the jetty together. We sat at the end, right out in the Loch, and soaked in the sunshine and the incredible view. It was very quiet and very still, and I felt small and removed from reality in a way that felt good. Like that the holiday started out well, but over the next few days the reason we were there, alongside the close living quarters, would take its toll and it became a bit tense and awkward. We needed space and didn’t have any. We needed escape, but we were cut off from the things we would usually use to ignore each other – mainly, our phones/internet.
You see, we were there to scatter my Grandfathers ashes. He was born in Glasgow and spent his early life there before work took him to Southern Africa, where he would meet my grandmother and settle in to life there. When he died, my grandmother asked for him to be laid to rest in his homeland. As my father and his family, my family, are the ones living in the UK this became our task. When he was younger my grandfather was an avid outdoors man and the area around Loch Lomond was one of his favourite places to go to. He would stay at the youth hostel just up the road from the Rowardennan Hotel we were staying by. It was an area he knew and loved. Therefore it was decided that we would take him to be laid to rest there. It made for a very sad trip, a very tense trip, as we were all grieving in our own ways.
I wish grief could be more straightforward, more linear. I wish there was a beginning and an end to it. Instead, it comes back, so suddenly and with such clarity. These past few days it came back and I feel devastated all over again now.
Nonetheless, we found a perfect spot for his final resting place and had a small but beautiful memorial service for him. We also did some good walking, went to the aquarium, soaked in the quiet, calm atmosphere of our cabin, and the sunshine and warmth and beauty of Scotland in Spring, before braving the long drive back again. (The drive back felt even longer and more cramped, which I know is psychological but still) (We got to go to Tebay services again though so yay again?) I have to go back to work tomorrow and that’s going to be weird- I feel I’ve not been working enough lately, and I’ve become quite lethargic, quite lazy. My brain isn’t ready to focus on actually being productive…and well, these past few days have been so full on emotionally that I feel like I could do with a holiday to recover. :|
These photos are from the first day, taken from our Jetty. I may post up some more entries with more photos, I may not. This trip feels so personal and my feelings are still raw, so I am not sure if I can write about it.