I woke early as usual, pushed the covers from my feet so I could feel the cooler air on my toes and took a deep breath.
No sooner had my head lifted from my pillow I felt suffocated. Long lists began to tick away in my mind like a reel, a long paper reel spinning round and round. I shut it off for a moment while I dressed the boys. I was there in the moment but not for long enough to hear my eldest boy making his baby brother laugh, I heard it but I didn’t hear it you know – it was just a noise.
A mess inside my head, a mess I couldn’t organise into piles or tidy up in a corner. It was just there blocking everything else out or at least making everything look and feel like a dull haze.
It is no good I thought as I sipped my coffee. Today has to be a good day. So with that I left the house leaving washing up from the night before, laundry mountains and play mobile pieces creating plastic nests everywhere.
I packed a bag of books, one for Francis one for Wilbur and one for myself with intentions of taking book club outside on the picnic rug.
I talked to the boys all the way to the green, I was there again in real life with no distractions . I told Francis about blossom trees and spring time.
Our picnic rug was crumpled in places piled with various blankets I found in the house
some had food stains on from our last picnic outing and some a little musty. Books, food and coffee for me.
There was nothing better than right now. We chased happiness and we found it.
It felt like a secret between best friends.
An unopened letter.
Fresh bed linen, summer skin, hot tea in a china cup.
Could I keep this moment? I thought to myself or should I remind myself these moments are there to be touched I need only to reach out and grab them. Hold them tightly.
Being overwhelmed doesn’t define your day it doesn’t have to be a bad day after all, sometimes you just have to chase happiness and you might find it somewhere you least expect.
When I found my happy place I breathed it in. I noticed detail like the way the light caught the golden shades in Wilbur’s whispy hair and how it almost looked strawberry blonde under the sun. How the blossom looked particularly pretty in the afternoon light and how lovely it felt to feel my sons’s hands in mine.