Yesterday Harry and I had a lovely day. We got on a bus using our free bus passes. We travelled a long way. We ended up in a lovely place with beautiful scenery and picturesque houses and old buildings and I took a photo of a gargoyle and we laughed at the pigeons sitting on the heads of every statue. We sat in a shady place while we ate sandwiches, because it had turned out really warm and sunny and I felt for the first time for a long time that I was bordering on happiness. It has taken me over a month to get over the sudden exit of the Japanese family and to come to terms with the various ways in which the big C has affected all our lives. The way it waits to pounce on us when we least expect it to. Harry's hospital appointment is not for a couple of weeks yet so we have a respite before the worry of what the blood test will reveal.
The afternoon turned out to be ideal. We eventually headed back home and had a take away meal, a surprise visit from my brother and we stayed up to watch a thriller film, "Flight Plan" which had us both gripping our seats! A really good day from start to finish!
Until, I suddenly remembered to switch off my mobile, that is. A text from my daughter, with the news that her husband had been rushed to hospital again. For those of you who don't know the present situation, I will just do a quick recap. Son in law had a brain tumour removed about three months ago. It turned out to be linked to his malignant melanoma that he had in a mole on his leg twelve years prior to that. He thought he had got over it. Now it seems he has all the symptoms back from the tumour. Could another one have grown that fast? We will have to wait and see. It sounds a pretty virulent, nasty type of cancer.
My daughter is distraught and the boys are obviously going to be disturbed by seeing their father screaming in agony. The eldest is possibly autistic and waiting for tests. Harry is fighting prostate cancer. My brother's wife has bone cancer, following the return of her breast cancer that she had twelve years ago. Twelve....... a significant number.........again. As well as all this, I had to cope with the sudden departure late one night of the family who had left in anger over a dispute about dripping washing in the loft. They had been with me for 11 months. All this has taken its toll on me, but yesterday I was happy for the first time for ages.
This has happened in the past when I have dared to declare myself to be happy.
Going on an outing with the children and finding my husband's motorbike on the front path and a note saying, "Don't worry, Harry is suffering concussion in hospital."
A day when I'd gone on a painting course for the day and daughter, who was twelve then, had to have my mother sign an emergency form so that she could have surgery for a broken elbow.
Six times at different points of our lives, usually holiday time, my husband has collapsed on me, while I had dared to be in a happy state of mind.
Maybe it would be better if I didn't let myself get too happy in the first place. That way I wouldn't be opening myself up for another knock to the floor.
Sorry for being so pessimistic today. I had a funny post ready to publish but that seems inappropriate now. Once again, you will have to bear with me. I will rise again as I always do, but I wish daughter didn't live so far away............