Silver linings: We are home. Isaac is better (tummy wise, but cough is building up to an exacerbation again). Our family and friends are well, or getting there. We are not living on an airfield, in a haulage lorry cab, eating cold bacon baps, hoping to get back home to family for Christmas. We are not working over the holidays on Brexit deals, or as key workers. There have been no delays to accessing Isaac’s medications. We are warm, dry, fed, and together....
We have enough, more than enough. We are the lucky ones, but I think it’s also OK to admit; fuck this is shit!
Mostly, I just miss people so, so much. I miss dancing. I miss hugs. I miss pubs, and soaking in a new atmosphere. Hearing the laughter of strangers. People watching. I miss meals with friends and family. I miss chaos with the kids and their friends. I miss feeling safe, and breathing freely. I miss excited anticipation, and spontaneity. I miss being early, or late. Having plans! I miss dressing up. I miss waking in the night, still giggling from the nights fun. I miss the jaw and rib ache you get from having laughed so much. I miss other peoples houses, and others feeling at home in mine. I miss being able to tell the kids of all our festive plans. It’s just one year, we think. This is not forever. But it is pants.
I will be walking 500km over the darkest month of January, and some wonderful friends and family will be pledging their own active challenges in the theme of 500 to support my fundraising further. There is no Christmas break from Cystic Fibrosis, and more than ever, charities need your donations. To read more, and sponsor us, please click here.
Keep well x
