Some Days
Carolyn Voisey
Mum to one incredible little dude, I work full time in higher education and have my own small business as a jewellery designer/creator. I love noth...
Some days I could punch the air at every little victory won.
There are so many of these, too many to count sometimes – seeing my boy's face light up as I get in from work after staying late to finish something off.
Reading him a story as he snuggles in closer, treasuring these precious moments before he’s outgrown them.
Some days there are lots of little victories to celebrate.
This week marks the end of the school term, the awards assembly is tomorrow and the children are gearing up for all the usual fun of the last days before the summer holiday begins.
A reminder of how far our children have come in just one year, some walking for the first time, others gaining in confidence to try speaking.
Some days, the memories sit a little heavier on my soul.
At the assembly in school tomorrow there will be some seats left empty; their former occupants no longer with us.
You may think I’m crying, but it’s just the memories leaking out a little bit. They’re not all bad y’know, but they’re also not all good.
There will be a lot of memories tomorrow, both made and remembered.
Some days the set backs are easier to handle.
Some days, my usual happy nature has darker, harder edges. When it’s all I can do to keep going.
The conflict of emotions is constant – forever grieving the loss of what might have been while no less loving the life, and the child, that is.
The sudden pang of pain at the reminder of limitations and dreams long since let go.
Some days, the fear of not being up to the job and of failing my son is all consuming – is there a therapy we haven’t learned about yet, are we doing enough physiotherapy/hydrotherapy/play therapy with him?
Are we making time to just BE with him, playing, reading together, being a family?
Some days, when the news isn’t good, you can feel the surge in strength from the very depths of your spirit rush up to meet you as you feel like you’re falling through the abyss.
It gets you upright, back on your feet, ready to ask what the plan of action is. Because there is always a Plan.
Some days I am just plain Mummy. My favourite title, and the role I have always longed to play.
There’s a little boy who looks at me and smiles and makes everything easier.
Every day x