He sat across from me on the bed. A shroud of confusion and disappointment weighed heavy on his defeated shoulders. I hid my tear-soaked face in the blanket, trying hard not to make a noise.
A tired voice rang in the uncomfortable silence. Go to sleep Amelie.
I looked up and peered in the darkness to see Amelie sitting up on her mattress that was laid on the floor. She was awkwardly still for what seemed like a long moment, as if she was deep in thought, a display of her sensitivity and emotional awareness that one would nary expect from a four year old. Amelie suddenly got up from her mattress and with a hint of hesitation she took a few steps and came up against the edge of my bed. Amelie leaned in and whispered, Mama I just want to give you a hug is that OK?
And with that, she did not wait for a response but leaned in and cradled my neck fleetingly with her small arms. I felt my heart burst with love just to break into pieces all over again. What did I ever do to deserve this sweet loving child?
“Life is thickly sown with thorns, and I know no other remedy than to pass quickly through them. The longer we dwell on our misfortunes, the greater is their power to harm us.” – Voltaire
On tumultuous evenings like the ones that have come to tarry these past weeks, I seek solace in the works of Voltaire. Witty, satirical, and controversially blunt. If a person should have a favorite philosopher (nobody should be hard pressed to pick one), mine… will be him.
In search of my harbour, I can only pray that a better morning comes, unburdened and free.
They are such great buddies. Even when they have to share ice cream. This is a photo taken by my husband — I love how he captured that moment from that angle. I don’t really know what exact angle I am trying to describe… it is the feelings which the photo invokes that really matters, right?
This has been a lovely evening. The kids are sound asleep, my better half has committed his presence to a much needed boys’ night (for his sanity and mine), and I get some rare time to myself to read, rest and reminisce… and roll on the bed whichever direction because it’s ALLLL MINE. When you’re three kids in like me, you’ll learn to take whatever you can get 😉
It has been some time since the last entry, not because I haven’t been as inspired because that is just not true; yet to say I have been too busy living is then simply far-fetched. Perhaps finding my center again is more apt. There has been a bit of Bread and a lot of Queen in the past months. Add a spoonful of Mark Diamond to switch things up a little. And a whole lot of Baby Shark for the kids by very specific, very repetitive demands. How did we ever survive without Spotify in the 90’s?
Amelie and Teddy are quickly growing into delightful not-so-little sprites, full of angst and joy and sugar and spice. This is them below, where we spent a lazy Sunday morning at YaKun for breakfast.
Amelie: Why are we eating here? (referring to the shop logo next to our table) Why are these words in Chinese?
Papa: We wanted to have a very ‘Chinese’ breakfast, and this is the place for it.
Amelie: I love the eggs… but I am not Chinese, I am English! 😂
“From the smallest necessity to the highest religious abstraction, from the wheel to the skyscraper, everything we are and everything we have comes from one attribute of man — the function of his reasoning mind.” – Ayn Rand
Some nights I just want to turn it off like a switch, the chatter in my mind. Mindfulness. Breathe. Here, now, appreciate.
“We never knock, for nobody’s there / Just me and my shadow, all alone and feeling blue.” – Billy Rose
Dreams are clouds… hanging so low in the sky you think you could just almost reach out and grab a fluffy piece for yourself, but really we’re grasping at nothing at all. Why is the sky blue? Why are our oceans blue? Why are the meadows green, and gradually changing shades of yellow, orange and red hues, then withered brown? What are we doing right, and doing wrong at the same time?
Each smile, an upturn at the curve of lips, painted light coral pink with a dewy hint; what’s really underneath? A mother’s aching heart, a father’s troubled mind. A lover’s worry, a child’s innocence. It’s been a long while since I’ve knocked on any doors. If I do, will you let me in?