Golden Days

Today has been a day of discovery. We began not knowing what it would hold (does anyone ever?) and as we panned along, we found a richness that we didn’t know was there. The gold is always hidden in the dust isn’t it? You have to be prepared to look.

We are in the hospital getting the next part of Coco’s gall stones dealt with. Hopefully the hand is a good one. If we end up with a pair of threes I’m asking for a reshuffle. But that is a game for another day. Today we held some aces.

We arrived at the hospital “way too early” (sorry, but you kinda need to tell us when to rock up if “too early” is gonna be a thing) so what else were we to do but hit the shops?

After the last surgery and our extended stay, I did that thing every desperate person does: make a deal with ??the universe?? and the deal was: if we ever get out of hospital, I’m going directly to Tiffany to get Coco a present. I had something in mind, but I wanted to see if she loved it too. Finally, as we were released onto the bustle of Stanley Street, we couldn’t do anything but go home to our people and have our minds and bodies enfolded in their arms. We wanted to smell sugarcane marinated in humidity, and for the salty air to wash the disinfectant from our nostrils. We wanted for things so simple that Tiffany felt out of step with us.

Today was different. Today we were spilling over with hope and spark so we bought hot pink shoes and gold skirts, plush cuddle cats and silly sushi keyrings. And we went to Tiffany.

A small while ago, a healing angel, dressed as a fairy taught Coco how to regulate her state with mala-bead breathing and a dusting of magic. So I had a little idea that a beaded bracelet would be the perfect thing for her to move through life with. An anchor to help her hold fast when the wind springs up, or a little rip appears. An anchor with a heart-shaped charm to remind her of her brave, if the days threaten to wash it away.

For courage is coeur is heart, and what better place to hold that Robin’s-egg blue charm to match the sky and the sea and her eyes and the bluebird of happiness than in her heart? Ready to come out any time she chooses.

All part of the gold we found, on a day that could have been dusty.

My girl has gone to sleep now, Mimi the horror-faced toy who has been at every hospital visit since babyhood (and would hold the reaper at bay), under one arm, and the cuddle cat over her head to drown out the mobile phone conversation from the Dad in the bay next to us who is planning a breakfast-shift somewhere. I asked Nathan earlier why people must speak so loudly on mobiles and he said it’s because the other person is so far away. The breakfast must be in the North Pole. Hey dude, tell Santa I said hi and I’d like some noise cancelling headphones, STAT, please and thank you.

As soon as I’m sure she’s in a deep enough sleep I’m stealing the cat, because between North Pole guy in bay one, snoring Mum in bay two and the elevator-style bedtime music coming from bay three, I think I am going slowly insane. Actually, hold the slow, I’m already there.

Just me and you, blog. Sitting in the dust.