I have just spent half an hour holding a perfect, gorgeous, baby girl who is just over a day old. Babies are the best therapy. So amazing, so perfect, so full of hope. I sat and listened to her parents talk and held their darling baby and then handed her over to her Grandmother when she arrived. What a privilege, what an honour, what a glorious start to the day.
I am at the same hospital where Daughter Number Two was born and memories assault me at every turn. The room my young friend is in is two rooms along from where I spent a week with my own little girl. Tomorrow I leave again and it hurts.
I am heartened though by the time we have spent together. The bond between us is unbroken, as it is between my three surviving children. Through distance and time love remains. And for me that counts.
It is not a perfect world. It is not a perfect life. I am patently imperfect. That my children know I love them, after all that we have been through – THAT is perfect.
My bags are packed, I have checked in. In about twenty four hours I will be leaving. Baby’s grandmother this morning asked where I was off to. When I told her she said ‘holiday?’ And I said ‘No, I live there.’ And that is the point entirely. That is where I live.
I was shopping with Daughter Number Two today when who should pull up beside me but Barry. My dearest Barry, my favourite cab driver. He’d spent six weeks touring China and has not even been back in town a week. I didn’t think I was going to be able to connect with him but there he was. He complimented me on my weight loss, twice. He’s smooth, our Barry! But he was genuinely thrilled to see me and genuinely pleased I was looking so well and we caught up on each others lives and left each other smiling. It was very cool. Unexpected and simple pleasures. Take them where you can find them, my friends.
Travel safe x