The little things…

I heard an interview this week on the radio, unfortunately I didn’t catch her name but the author had written a book about her life as a black woman  This life clearly had been extremely harsh and brutal at times.  However her book was about all the good stuff that had happened.  She said she had been questioned about why her books ignored the harsh reality of her existence and pain.  She replied – why would I want to write about that?

It struck a chord with me because I don’t want to write a blog about all the bad stuff and I think that surprises people sometimes because the loss of a child is ‘bad stuff’ and it doesn’t go away.  Bad stuff happens in the week, it has happened this week but I don’t want to write about that – that’s not what my writing is about.  I can write about difficult times but I need to find an answer too that makes it not so difficult any more.  It’s how I work.

That doesn’t mean I ignore pain or sadness.  It doesn’t mean my life is one happy gin & tonic filled existence lying in the sun with a good book (though that sounds nice!).  My life is a normal one like yours.

I guess I am trying to explain why my blog tries to find the lightness in my week and with it share moments that have made me think or smile or take notice.

Like the ten minutes from my week that made me feel really happy.  It was ten minutes that I took to talk to a little five year old girl.  We were at the same birthday party.  I’d rushed straight from work, my trousers stuck horribly to my legs due to the heat.  Everyone in work was complaining and it took me half an hour to convince them all that  we did not need to panic buy ten new air conditioning units (I write this a couple of days later and all I can hear now is rain!).  I drove a little too quickly the thirty-miles finally getting to the windy hill and reaching the party.  Late of course.

I was fed pizza and peppermint tea when I spotted her.  She stood a little awkwardly tying knots in the bottom of her blue gingham school dress.  The boys were busy hitting each other with cushions and footballs, she wisely stayed away and didn’t look too amused.  I was tired and had just sat down but I felt her awkwardness and decided to see if she wanted to talk.  I began with the usual – what’s your name?  Her face initially had a look of slight panic and you could feel her thinking whether I looked safe enough to talk to or not as her parents warnings about strangers flashed through her mind.

She decided I was.  Once we got over pleasantries we went on to have a very interesting conversation.  She told me all about her pets of rats, goldfish and cats.  She described her birthday cake in great detail that she had a few weeks ago along with her knowledge of languages and how to say cheers in German!  We discussed siblings, dogs and chocolate cake and like that the twiddling young girl had disappeared, replaced with a confident, chatty, happy 5 year old.  Happy that someone had stopped for a moment.

So these two events made me think that it isn’t a bad thing to  try and concentrate on the positives in life, it’s a good thing.  Secondly it’s good to make an effort and make some time, tired or not.  If someone looks like they need a chat whether they’re two or seventy-two.  Stop, talk, listen, laugh & learn.  It’ll brighten up their day and also its likely to brighten up yours.


Happy Sunday everyone – xxx




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