‘Get up, get my clothes out.
What time is it?’ Calls from Seb.
Violin practice, ‘eggs or porridge?’, ‘Can I ride my bike?’
Lunches made, kids off to school.
M25, trains to Euston, distant sounds.
That used to be me; drive to Heathrow, valet parking;
Train to meet customers, packed agenda, I am contributing.
Toilet, shower, getting dressed,
Can I do the shirt button? Yes, that’s good,
45 minutes all in all.
A blessing, I have time to read, to write,
The watcher, the listener and yes, still the doer.
Different things, cards (a little hard to shuffle),
Listen to my son read stories.
I peeled and chopped the apples last night;
A sense of achievement.
The weekend – somehow everything crashed;
So much has happened, quickly too.
Golf for Sebastian, Valentina biking and a birthday,
Normal life carries on; that’s good!
Back to the morning, mind wandered,
Facebook posts show another world
(Maybe best not to look?).
In the end, we are on our own,
‘It’s up to you, Andrew.’
That’s true. Positive about the day ahead.
Great to be alive and see the faces, hear the laughter.