Good morning ladies.
Little tears in my eyes because of all the love we give.
It was Offspring, and lovely, some recommendations. Sometimes I just take myself off to bed, when the world gets too noisy, and snuggle down with TV that isn't quite what hubs enjoys watching. So it's nice to have some up my sleeve. Over Christmas I did a Jonathan Creek marathon, absolutely awful, but quite calming in an odd way.
Stuff with my kids, I don't know, has got much easier very recently - oh lordee, I feel a long post coming on:
Back in September I was upset because there was a course I wanted to do at night school, learning about something that's been my husband's speciality / passion for practically his whole life (schizo-analysis), but I knew I didn't have the time and energy without dropping other stuff I also really wanted to do, stuff that was important to me. My youngest picked up on this and said to me 'It's OK. You can want to do it, and not want to do it. It's perfectly fine to feel opposite and competing things. You can be proud of yourself and pleased with yourself that you've made a decision that's right for you, while also being sad that it means you're going to miss out.' That had literally never occurred to me before, that I can feel conflicted, that not everything has to be tied up in a neat little bow. I wouldn't say I'm amazed she's so wise at 23, but it did reassure me. I realised she's leagues ahead of me in some ways.
And then my son, the one who has disabilities. I had to have an ECG in December, his house is on the way to the hospital and both are within walking distance. He figured I was a bit jittery and offered to come with. He said it made a nice change for him to be in the caring role and he'd look after me. And then this last Friday, I was wanting to get a foot spa, but not entirely enthusiastic about going into town. We were sitting in Pret and he was like 'What's a foot spa anyway?' I explained and he said 'So, an electric bowl of water, just get yourself a bowl, much cheaper, much less hassle, and Dad rubs your feet anyway'. That made me laugh, because he's right. I was getting all confused by whether or not I could put essential oils in the proper ones and how difficult they'd be to clean afterwards.
Oldest daughter, well, she played a blinder at Christmas. I ordered the meat from the butchers, she picked it up on the 23rd, and then on Christmas day son-in-law came and got us all, took us to their new house (they bought their first house in the Summer, no mean feat in Brighton, they've worked so hard for 10 years), and when I arrived she handed me a bottle of bucks fizz and a pair of slippers. 'Put your feet up, Mum,' she said, 'Everything's under control here. I don't want you to lift a finger. All those Christmases you've rushed around and made it special for everyone else. This one's for you'. And it was bloody lovely. I mean the dinner was only lukewarm, you know, but that didn't matter because everyone was relaxed and happy.
If you'd have looked at my little family 10 years ago, five years ago, two years ago, you wouldn't have pegged us for being so sorted. We got there in the end though, after some seriously bumpy times.
As for the cat. I'm glad yours in on the mend Birdy. I lost my girl Bob (19) on my birthday in October. We rescued her as a kitten after she was dumped in my friend's porch in a box. Oh god, that cat. I can still see her little face eyeing me up from behind my friend's sofa when I went to collect her. We were never meant to keep her, because I'm allergic to cats, but we couldn't let her go once she was here. Towards the end she was blind, totally incontinent, and quite wobbly on her pins, but not in pain, so we took the decision to let her go naturally - largely possible because hubs works from home. He grew up on a farm, so is pretty accustomed to the comings and goings of animals. That night he took one look at her and said 'It's her time' and picked her up and held her in his arms. We sat quietly for hours while she slipped away. He was singing to her and we were talking about the last 19 years, how the kids have grown, how we've grown. It was so peaceful and full of love. And after she'd gone we wrapped her in silk and put her on our altar covered in flowers. The next day, he buried her in a huge plant pot with dozens of spring bulbs. They're just coming up now. It's outside right by the front door, which is amazing, as she always used to greet visitors to the house.
For me, being able to talk about these bits of grief and struggle helps me to feel the love, and that helps me to not be swallowed by my anxiety. I feel like I should apologise for taking up too much space, and then I feel like I should stop apologising for the space I take up.
Jeepers. Big hugs.
EK
