At six o'clock this morning, I set off to Majorca with my husband and younger daughter. I have tried and failed to remember the last time we had a proper holiday. It must have been somewhere back in 2013.
Now, the last thing I want to do whilst splashing about in the Mediterranean is post blogs about One Year Ago, so yesterday I lined up four contributions for the week ahead (including this one) and pressed the "publish" button with a range of dates attached. I've only just discovered that such a feature exists on Blogger. If all goes well, they should arrive on your doorstep at the right time. If not, we'll have a bit of catching up to do when I get back.
My friends, I hope you enjoy last year's misery. If it all gets too much, just think of me lying on that beach with my newly sprouting hair. See you when we get back.
ONE YEAR AGO...
10th April 2014
I've emailed Owl's picture in the scanning room to a couple of friends who know Owl's story. One of them responds:
"Having a surrogate to be the patient sounds fascinating. Will you let him feel and say things that you usually wouldn't?"
I think about this, and the words that I tap into my iPhone are new to me, bringing fresh tears to my eyes. They flow easily these days.
"Owl wouldn't say boo to a goose and would never ask questions of the doctors and nurses. He lets everything happen to him and is completely powerless.
(Which doesn't upset him the way it would upset me, because he doesn't know any different.)
He is very frightened but accepting. He knows that he is loved unconditionally by my older daughter's Pig and my younger daughter's Bear, and that they love him not despite but because of his vulnerability.
And he knows that because of this love, it doesn't matter whether he lives of dies."
[That evening, I sat up until midnight to sew this friend an owl of her own. You can read about that here.]
To be continued...