Loving like Haddi

Day 318

Finally! I get to the computer! Life with a husband at home and a son out of college is not my normal life, let alone my new life. Fitting around others all the time, at the moment, and finding it a trifle draining. Oh well.

Now. Updates.

Have done lots of sewing for Denise, my clever, clever friend who makes stage costumes. These were for the Globe Theatre's production of Anne Boleyn. I did all the lace and beads and fiddly diddles for two frocks. Very proud of myself.

Have received another rejection for my colour book for kids, but they were ever so complimentary about it, which is nice. Reason for rejection was that they had two similar books on their list already but the quality of the illustrations had made them consider it nonetheless. Very sweet way to say 'No', I thought.

Have started doing some voluntary work at a local charity shop. Wanted something to do that wouldn't be too taxing (as health bloody awful right now), but was community minded. Wanted to give back something as feel rather 'taking' at the moment, and that doesn't sit well with me. Am bringing home all the things with buttons missing or hems down to repair for them.

Also, made a little girl cry.

The little girl is called Haddi, and she is four years old and adorable. She is the grand-daughter of the lady who runs the charity shop and is all big green eyes, fuzzy dreadlocks, and chatter, and she adopted me as her playmate on my first afternoon on the job.

This was great. We played with lots of toy animals and a cardboard box, with endless variety. Then it was time for me to leave and she crumbled like a souffle in the wind. She hurled herself onto her mother's lap and sobbed.

What a humbling and heartfelt reminder about the true nature of love. The heart of a child simply opens to encompass you fully, with no reserve. You do not have to prove yourself or meet any expectations, and yet they take you into their world so completely that they are devastated at your leaving.

I look at my husband and my sons. Do I open myself that fully to them? No I do not - I keep something in reserve. I do not fling myself into my hubby's arms when he steps through the door, nor feel an aching loss at his parting. 'Real life' is, apparently, not like that. (Most of the time I don't even remember to give him a kiss.)

But perhaps we take too much for granted, play it all a bit too cool. When I remember the joy of little Haddi, I realise I want to open up more than I do, to appreciate those I say I love more openly, emphatically and enthusiastically. Why not, after all - they deserve it!

My love for them is in there somewhere, a little buried under everyday chores and niggles and worries, perhaps, but real enough in it's own way. If I look a little foolish pulling it up to the surface and choosing to show it abundantly, then where's the harm? I have stayed safe and subdued far too long.

Life can be draining and others take far more of one's energy than is comfortable, but - and it's a big but - what if they weren't there at all? How would I feel then? And one day they won't be. My last child will leave home and start his new life. My husband won't live forever. Have I made the best use of this time that I have with them?

Have I loved them like Haddi?

I want to love them like Haddi.

I just forget sometimes.