I suffered from obesity for a long time. I had a series of short stays in hospital for treatment. At the age of 14, to lose weight, I joined the medical-psychological center in Flers, in Normandy. I was taken care of, I attended classes all week and returned to my native Sarthe at the weekend. It was difficult to leave home at that age, but I chose it. It was in this hospital that I learned of my mother’s death.
I remember perfectly that night of Tuesday, November 22, 2016. Usually, we had to go to bed around 9:30 p.m. This Tuesday, it was almost 11 p.m. and no one told me to go to bed. I felt something weird. The special education teacher knocked on my door. “Pack your bag, Simon, your dad is waiting for you at reception. » Surprised, I asked him: “Is that mom?” » No response. I went downstairs, my father was standing in the middle of the deserted hall. He had traveled two hours from our village. We looked at each other, we hugged each other. Tears were flowing, we didn’t say a word. Mom had left, she had committed suicide.
“Gathered in his room, we found three boxes. On each one, there was a label with our first names. At that point we burst into tears. »
I got in the car. We took the road at night, without a sound. During the entire trip, we hardly spoke with my father. We arrived at the house, the one where my half-brother, my sister and I grew up. I went to bed. We had lost our mother, but this large house, half an hour from Le Mans, remained our rallying point. I am fourteen years apart from my half-brother and seven from my sister. They had left the family home several years ago. My sister returned urgently from Senegal where she was on a humanitarian mission. It’s been a long time since we’ve been together.
We had to share what our mother had left us. We walked through the rooms of the house to list his belongings. My sister was the last one to get on the phone. Before leaving, she asked him to gather the siblings together to look in the drawers under his bed. Gathered in his room, we found three boxes. On each one, there was a label with our first names. At that point we burst into tears. I opened my box. There was my very first cuddly toy, a little money and franc coins because I collected them. I knew she was thinking of me.
But very quickly, there was talk of administrative papers and appointments with the notary. My parents had three houses in the village at the time of their death. All different, with various sizes and values, they had to be distributed. My father, my half-brother and my sister didn’t talk about it too much. They wanted to preserve me, it was better that way. I was too young. I spent my time playing video games to escape reality. I imagined a dream world about Minecraft, a construction video game. It was a refuge, a way to comfort myself.
“Very quickly, there was talk of administrative papers, appointments with the notary. I was too young. I spent my time playing video games to escape reality. »
All these back and forths between houses, these long months of succession, of discussion, I spent them under the same roof as my father and my sister – my half-brother left again. My sister and I have few childhood memories in common, she left home when I was 11. Our relationship was even quite conflicted at the time. She showed me all the colors. Once she told me: “Taste!” Mom cooked venison! » I hated it and she admitted to me, hilariously, that it was cat food. She didn’t miss a single one, but when it came time for the inheritance, we got closer.
I rarely saw my father because he was often on the move. A train driver in Paris, he had odd hours. Before I left for Flers, he gave me his rotation sheets. These are very technical sheets which describe the route of the train for the driver. He explained to me how to read them by deciphering the jargon and codes. With this, I could know, day after day, where he was, what time he arrived or which stations he stopped at. I had a little piece of him.
After Mom died, the three of us spent a month together. And we were really there for each other. We took the time to say to each other ” i love you “. We were cuddling. I felt good in my father’s arms, in the scent of his perfume, Gentleman by Givenchy. My sister wore a perfume that I could recognize among a thousand, Narciso by Narciso Rodriguez.
I needed this time together. We stuck together. My sister stayed long enough to settle inheritance issues. My father stopped working for several months and I missed a month of classes. The close relationship I have with my father comes from there.
“It’s not easy to sell the house where we grew up, I had a lot of memories. It’s also the last house I lived in with my mother. »
In the estate, I got some money and my share of the houses. When I turned 18, I spent a lot of time with him selling the goods. I invested in the visits to relieve him. This situation may have been a burden for him. I wanted to help him, to be there for him. It’s not easy to sell the house where we grew up, I had a lot of memories. It’s also the last house I lived in with my mother.
Today, we no longer live under the same roof with my father and my sister. But, every time I come home, I try to spend as much time with them as possible. When I call my father, we often talk politics. There is always something to say and he helps me make choices for my studies. He always gives good advice. I have more difficulty meeting my sister, but when we see each other, we take the time to discuss our mother, our place in the family. I like to send them postcards. It’s better than an email or a phone call. This shows that, even if we are far away, we think of our loved ones. It’s like an “I love you”.
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