Thursday
Dear Elsie
Today was the day I woke up with a tummy ache and it hung around until eventually I took some Buscopan. That worked like a charm and now I’m better, albeit I feel slightly queasy. Note to self: no more liquorice – it’s like honey in my mouth and poison in my stomach.
This afternoon while we were just chilling, there was suddenly an enormous bang. David had gone for a drive. We thought it came from the workshop, so Mike and Courage went to investigate. All they found that could possibly have been the cause was a rock had rolled down. They suspected that when it hit something it reverberated up and caused the significant bang.
Then David came home from his outing. He rested on our floor and then went up to the top and immediately called down. I thought that something really bad had happened – like the doors had fallen out. The ceiling boards of Julian’s balcony had collapsed. When last here, Julian had said they were sagging, but the maintenance team have a way of leaving these things until Julian next comes and doing it on that day, so it was going to be dealt with next Wednesday. But, it didn’t last. It all came tumbling down, much to Mike’s chagrin.
Courage was hastily called to secure what was left. I took photos and sent them to Werner. Werner is keen to please because he will soon start building on a plot nearby (I referred the owner to him!), so he’s coming on Monday to look. I sent him the measurements. It’s 3.6m x 1.2m so once we have that, it can be fitted and Courage can do the painting. By the time Courage left at 4.30pm, all was forgot. Mike had got over it. Courage had apologised.
Despite my tummy grumbles, I still worked 7 hours.
Today, one year ago, David’s body broke. It’s been a year he has been unwell. Yesterday we said nothing. It was 52 weeks. Today we have been as quiet as church mice. I dare not raise it. Why bring up the pain of one long year of struggle. One thing I know for sure – God knows. He’s got this. He has David’s best interest in mind. We can’t see it. It was terrible at first. He thought he was having a heart attack. Then he went through all the stages of grief – denial, anger, bargaining, depression & finally acceptance. We all have struggled with these emotions. I’ve been face down on the bathroom floor praying for my son (and my daughter), wetting the mat with my tears. But now, there is acceptance. We constantly pray, but we also live knowing God’s plan is best. He has this. And we will trust Him. In the meantime, life goes on for him one slow day at a time. I take strength from the Bible. Every day it feeds me.
Psalm 35:9
Then my soul will rejoice in the Lord and delight in His salvation.
It’s not about now – we are only passing through.
Keep the smile going.
God bless you.
In His Grip,
Gran xx 🙂