Purposeful solitude

It’s been a lonely couple of weeks.  My weak legs have won out, and the need for the kids to be out and about has meant that other people have taken them away.  I was relieved that they weren’t paying the indoors price for my bad health, and that they were enjoying the glorious September sunshine with their dad, or their granny.  They came back happy, laden with acorns and conkers, and later I got to see the photographic evidence of their fun.

Meanwhile, I was trying to tell myself that a quiet cup of tea was a luxury, and a rest, vital.  I kept thinking, I must be content with this.   But, to be honest, I’m still not there.  I’m just about holding myself back from feeling cheated out of precious memories, left out of living as I sit powerless to do anything.

My only source of hope seems to come from looking for reasons to be thankful.  And there are many.  I’m reminded of my granny, stuck for hours by herself in her sitting room in the home, but always telling me she was ‘tip-top.’   We shouldn’t have to put it off until we’re old to find the secret of peace in being alone.  And we shouldn’t ever assume that people stuck sitting down, indoors, are at peace either.  There’s a trick somewhere, and I’m determined to find it, however many battles are to be fought along the way.  If I find it, I’ll tell you.

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