Something I'm finding difficult to do this week.
Thanksgiving is approaching and I am glad I'm not American and I don't have to give thanks. I'm not feeling thankful. I should be. This makes it worse. Elin is still doing brilliantly. She is having a lovely half term. Thank you, for that. But I do not feel thankful. I am raging against the world today. Nothing seems fair.
A million things, upsetting, frustrating, annoying.
A million tiny things.
And one big thing.
The fading light fell through the trees, dappling the carpet of crisp leaves beneath my feet today as I pushed Elin, alone, around the park. It was beautiful and calming. I needed air. Elin seemed to understand and sat perfectly in her chair as she gazed along with me at the world passing us by. We had a cuddle on a bench and I whispered all my secrets to her and told her life wasn't fair and what happened to her was not fair and I was sorry, and we and took in the stunning scenery together. I was glad and I was grateful she was there with me, and well. I thought of the awful news this morning and of a family grieving. I tried to swallow my almost inexplicable rage and give thanks after all. To the trees, to the air, to the world. To Elin, for her survival, without which my life would have been an endless cycle of damp and angry Autumnal days forevermore. And I almost managed it. Almost.
Autumn days when the grass is jewelled and the silk inside a chestnut shell,
Autumn days when the grass is jewelled and the silk inside a chestnut shell,
Jet planes meeting in the air to be re-fuelled and the things I love so well..
So I mustn't forget.
No, I mustn't forget.
To say a great big thank you..
I mustn't forget.