I find myself in a rather contemplative mood this morning, post second chemo dose. At this time of the year I am usually gearing up for the start of a new academic term. Some brave (others may say foolish) governing body or senior leader has had the foresight to engage my services ahead of the new academic year and I am drooling at the challenge ahead. But not this year, because of the obvious hiccup, I am workless. The phone hasn’t rung and neither has that special email dropped in to the mailbox. I have started to put the feelers out there and made people aware that I am alive and kicking and available (at a reasonable price). I am sure it will come, it always does. But if you or someone you know wants to employ a slightly shouty, middle-aged man for a few days a week, let me know.
However, there are a great many things to be looking forward to over the next few weeks. First is the return to home of the boy-child, after his first sortie in to the big boys’ world, the first-born is to return to the nest. I have to say that I am a little bit delighted, as I have missed having him around and of course we will all welcome the return of drum practice upstairs and I am sure the beer consumption rates will now return to their pre Brexit (Ben Exit) levels.
And just as one returns, the other is off. The second-born has secured a place at her chosen institute of higher education and will be disappearing off down the A303 to St Mary’s Twickenham to study Sociology and Theology in a couple of weeks. Three tough, but exciting years are ahead of her, as she becomes accustomed to living the high life in south-west London and becoming part of a new community and friendship group. We will of course welcome the chance to remove the clutter from our hallway that has gradually seeped from her room. God knows what horrors lurk behind the bedroom door.
Apart from this recent episode, we have been a hugely blessed with a wonderful family. We live in a special place and have between the four of us, created a warm and loving home. Above the door, as you enter our home is a little sign that says “we may not have it altogether, but together we have it all”. This and the care and love of our wider family and friends is what is getting us all through this difficult time and it will also propel us forward to the next stage as all of us face the challenges that our wonderful lives throw at us.
There it is, a blog post without one single swear word. Must be the chemo drugs!
