Called the practice yesterday morning to apologise for my screw up, asked if I can reschedule little boy's vaccination. Lucky for me I don't have to wait until January! I think the receptionist felt my guilt through the telephone lines.
"That's alright, things like this happen," she said. And booked my son in for next Thursday. Amazing.
I stayed up until 3 am the night before, my sleep cycle confused by that three-hour nap. Awake by 7am. I was canvassing hiking / walking shoes. Not that I will be climbing Snowdon anytime soon, I just need something that is waterproof and can stand the rough terrain, plus something I can wear while biking. grace suggested hybrid shoes.
On I Googled: what are hybrid shoes. The vaguest of terms. Not much luck. She swears by her Karrimors, but I am not sure based on the reviews. They seem too weighty for my needs. She has hiked Snowdon and many others. A broken metatarsal and three month house arrest was the catalyst for that newfound desire for adventure. She started it all during that period where I was busy moving countries and building my family. We were barely in touch. I had flown out of the metaphorical nest.
I remember our hike in North Wales, just a little walk in the countryside. Baby boy on the heavy-duty pushchair that her husband and her son took turns to push up the rocky terrain. I played with my eldest, racing up and down the path.
When we finally got to the waterfall, my little girl tried to make her own way on the rocks. grace's husband carried my son atop a flat boulder some distance from the cascading water, so he could splash a little.
"Bring james over to his mum," grace said. So that's what he did, and she took a photo of me and the kids.
When I returned home she stopped picking up my calls. Things are resolved now for all intents and purposes, but that was still very painful and confusing. I wish I had remembered to mention words like hurtful and betrayal, and knowing me down to my bones and choosing to leave anyway. I sort of wish I hadn't been like a swan, composed and poised in my responses, understanding her to the point of sacrificing validating my own wounds. A part of me wishes I had thrown a tantrum and then told her how utterly distraught I was that I contemplated ending my life a few times. But that isn't what adults do, especially those who are supposedly growing from therapy.
Anyway those are just fleeting fantasies, my inner child hoping that even if I did that she would still understand and validate me and still want to nurture our relationship.
Where we are, is where we are. We are what we are now. It is how it is.
2021-11-25.9:16 a.m.
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