My parents sold my childhood home – and my creeping panic came to an end

Weekend breakfasts were a ritual in the suburban three-bed semi where I grew up: a cereal course followed by a full English, a colourful tablecloth, the teapot and ginger biscuits for "afters." After we had twins and became a family of five, my partner and I moved our three small children back to Yorkshire in 2020 to be closer to Mum and Dad.

Around the same time they sold their house, we decided to build them a bungalow in our garden, put 80% of their belongings into storage and moved Mum and Dad in with us until the build was complete. In January 2025 I sat down for my final breakfast at that table, and it felt like a turning point.

Packing up Mum and Dad’s house felt like a massive goodbye: that bedroom, the familiarity of creaks on the stairs and the knowledge that there were 13 steps in total. That evening I watched a Jane McDonald travelogue in the blue glow of the gas fire while we ordered "an Imran’s" curry as a treat.

childhood home, parents, yorkshire, twins, bungalow, storage, final breakfast, full english, jane mcdonald, imram’s curry