On Monday I was granted a day alone to go for a walk.
Budd took Frank to the zoo and Sev lent me her i-pod.
I'd been feeling a bit blah.
Just aware that the day in day out, hour in hour out and minute in minute out care of a diabetic child has really taken its toll.
I recently saw photos of myself when Frank was just six months old and I look like a different woman.
This year has aged me. Hugely.
How could it not?
So, the lovely people I am lucky enough to share my life with gave me this day.
A stolen day.
I left the house at around ten and was only out for three hours.
In that time I listened to wonderful music, walked in a steady rhythm and looked around me at the sharp blue sky.
I had a green tea in a cafe and read a lovely book about T1D for teenagers by Fibi Ward, herself a teenager, called "No Added Sugar".
I bought Friendship Day gifts and had a salad in another cafe on the way home.
I breathed in.
I breathed out.
I returned home ready to be strong again.
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My blog is where I focus on the positive. It would be wrong, however, not to be honest too and say that I still cry, am still horrified and still feel a surge of relief EVERY MORNING when Frank pads into out room.
HE'S ALIVE!!!
The he jumps on my head and says "Mummy, you be the digger and I'll be the dumper truck" before proceeding to move all my bedside books from the floor to the bed and back again.
Noisily.
I struggle to maintain my equilibrium and to join in when I am so tired, or more specifically before the tea has been supped.
However, I never lose that feeling of recognising who the teacher really is of the two of us when he comes in with his mussed up hair and beautiful morning face forcing me to face a new day with no cynicism but just joy in the moment.
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