Contentment

I have had two days full of peace.

It started with an out-of-the-blue phone call from someone very special to me sharing good news, which is probably the best kind of out-of-the-blue phone call you can get, followed by a long, lazy day sat in the sunshine, once the smallest one had been waved off to enjoy a day of paddling pools at his Dad’s. I sat, I giggled at the irony of knitting a thermal winter hat for my friend in Oz on what felt like one of the hottest days of the year, and I lay on my back watching the clouds, thinking they looked like islands in a Pacific Sea, and imagining that it was me drifting above them, suspended in orbit. I could feel sun easing the deep aches and pain that seem determined to dog me at the moment, and as I started to doze off, I retreated inside, taking off my thin sun dress to crawl under cold white sheets to sleep and sleep.

I talked to friends on the telephone and online and laughed. I remembered to eat. I went to bed early with some dreams and plans to put in the incubator over night, and I woke early in time to watch the sun make its way across my ceiling and listen to Saturday waking up through my open window.

And pain, though annoying, didn’t worry me, and thinking, though scary, felt full of hope and promise. And a parcel from a dear friend, full of yarny treasures so beautiful and perfect they made me cry (thank you Mhairi x), and ALL of this, coupled with words of love from those to whom I mean most, reminded that I am much loved and for just a while, I was content to be me, just as I am.

 

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