This morning, with a heavy heart, I drove my friend to London Heathrow to fly home, leaving me alone again. It was a sad goodbye, but I look forward to seeing her again the next time I fly home to visit my family – whenever that may be. I was quite proud of how well I held up watching her leave, but was feeling very sad on the drive home. Occupied by my own thoughts, I didn’t notice that I turned the wrong way off the motorway, and had to find somewhere to turn around. I was frustrated, but when I then turned back onto the motorway going in the wrong direction I started crying. Driving people to the airport, driving in general in England, was Terry’s job and it’s one of many things that I have to step up and do in his absence. Today I did an awful job of it and was so frustrated with myself, and a little bit at him for not being here to help, that I just burst into tears.
It wasn’t a great morning. I came home to an empty house but was pleased to find this awaiting me on my doorstep:
The girls in my form, called 8AKY, had all written me notes and they put them into this gorgeous book. Terry and I didn’t have any children, something that I find particularly hard to deal with at the moment. While I may not have any babies to my name, I do have 27 wonderful, wacky 12 year olds that I can call my own and who have lifted my very heavy heart today. Sure they misspelled my name, and one actually managed to misspell her own name, but I loved reading all of the notes, written in the colourful way that only a 12 year old girl can, looking at all of the pictures, and feeling of the love packed in between the colourful pages. Here are a few of my favourite bits, so you can see how amazing my girls are:
And so, even on horrible days, something perfectly lovely can come along and remind me that I have a reason to smile and to carry on. Tonight my glass of hot chocolate is most definitely half full.