Tag: family love

If we were having coffee … 2

If we were having coffee … 2

If we were having coffee I’d probably be gushing today because I’m H.A.P.P.Y. You’d have to struggle to get in a word but you might as well give up because I’m too excited to let you have your turn. And then when you’d throw up your hands in despair because I wouldn’t be making any sense in my eagerness to explain, I’d calm down enough to tell you that I was  going on a holiday… with friends… just us.

Our coffees would lie untouched as I’d go on about how excited I was because it was the very first time I was doing this in ten whole years – since I had the kids. The only other time I travelled without them was for my sister’s surgery so that didn’t really count (even though it turned out to be a kind of a Roman Holiday for me).

And no matter how much you rolled your eyes (because you’re the cool, calm, collected kind of friend) or tried to say it wasn’t a big deal my spirits would refuse to dampen because it was a big deal.

If we were having coffee I’d tell you of the crazy bunch I’m going with. How one was only thinking about the clothes she’d carry and the pictures we’d click while the other couldn’t stop dreaming of strawberries and cream. And I’d tell you how all I was looking forward to was a clean quiet room to revel in for one whole day.

‘Drink your coffee’, you’d say and then proceed to ask How? What about the kids? And a tiny line of worry would probably cloud my forehead as I’d reach for my coffee and, even though I was feeling a tad unsure, I’d tell you they were well looked after in my absence. As I assured you I’d probably be reassuring myself too.

If we were having coffee I’d tell you about my SIL who had volunteered to take care of the kids. And then as I would think of her calm smiling face the worry lines would melt because I know she’s good with them. She’d make sure N had a tiffin of her choice, she’d run after H mock threatening to embarrass him by hugging him as she dropped him off to school, she’d pamper them silly and they’d probably think I was back too soon.

And as I tell you this I’d fill up with gratitude for a wonderfully supportive family; for having people in my life who step in to lend a hand without my asking; who brush away my guilt trips with their no-nonsense talk.

I’d tell you how grateful I was for the way the kids had handled it with N making me promise to send her selfies ‘on Bua’s phone’ while H had sacrificed a birthday party without much of a tantrum.

As we would drain our cups I’d feel better for having talked to you, for having aired my worries and chased them away. And I’d tell you how grateful I was to have you to share my joys and sorrows always.

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