A hint of normality, as we had a carer here to help us get ready for church. A masked, aproned and gloved carer, true, but still, familiar eyes over the familiar struggle to enforce basic hygiene on a reluctant child.
A truly balmy day, warmer outside than in; it even tempted A out to join us, until 4 sirens in a row had her scurrying for cover. But precious indeed to sit outside with her, to keep each other quiet company whilst watching D flicking the daisies and wrestling with the giant daffodils. Our daffodils are monstrous this year, taller than I can remember.
Live-streamed church again, ever more technically proficient as the weeks go on. Two short verses to carry us through the weeks ahead; Jesus wept. And, Rejoice Always. That fundamental dichotomy that anyone who has experienced great loss knows all to well; the ability to laugh through tears, to know the Comforter as we know the joy too.
I am tired today. Silly mistakes - nothing serious, but relying on A as my external memory to keep me on track and get everything done in some kind of order. She’s a good memo pad.