Not so spotty Poppy

Well we made it, finally home with our miracle child.

It was a really wet and dismal day for a homecoming but things were crystal clear.

Angels watch over us and if we are lucky some walk amongst us.

We arrived home to lawns that were mowed, a house that was clean, washing done and a fridge cleaned out, fresh eggs, butter, bread and milk in the fridge and a bunch of flowers on the table. All of these done by different people, different circles but with one small thing in common, Us!

I have been so humbled by not only my close friends but our community and perfect strangers that have taken us in their hearts and done what they can.

I am still processing the enormity of it all and am still a little numb. It is the little things that get you. Like walking into Poppy’s room and remembering the last time I did that when my daughter was fighting for her life and remembering my thoughts on funeral arrangements and complete madness really. I wish I could erase them. I saw the thermometer in the lounge where I left it, my reaction is to rid the house of all things that bring that gut retching time back, but cannot.

This is the third time we have nearly lost our daughter and frankly that is quite enough. However I am such a pagan and have difficulty saying such a thing as if to invite it into my life again. For the record although I have had enough of the life and death thing, I am still prepared to go thorough it countless times if it means we get to have her in our life and I get to kiss her grandchildren. Crap, touch wood. Man that was real hard for me as over the last couple of weeks I have said the term “touch wood” and be buggered if wood is easy to find in a hospital and I was a little OCD about it. Planning to now get a wooden key ring. Feck I am nuts….hey I always have nuts, are they wood?