Counting my blessings

I’ve written nothing in here for almost a month. I’ve written too little to friends, and that’s more important.. I’ve written almost nothing that wasn’t essential to making my living – and only just kept on top of that.

Six weeks ago, my partner broke her leg, and priorities changed. Which has caused me to pause and think about how very fortunate I am. After all, in the scale of things a broken leg is not the worst thing that could have happened to her; and its duration is strictly finite.

Two of my friends are permanently confined to wheelchairs; both live their lives to a full degree which I have always admired but now consider more deeply. One of them is a single mother with two children; she has managed to write and publish one novel, and a second is in the pipeline. The other has a partner who also lives a full life, despite full attention to his needs.

I’m not tearing my hair, rending my clothes, or donning sack cloth and ashes; but I am realising just how lucky I am to have a life which is so free that I can notice small and infrequent constraints. And appreciating my good fortune in having a partner with whom such freedom is possible, too.