>Small Things

>I’ve been pretty tired lately.  And on Monday I said to my friend Sara that I was beginning to feel like everyone and everything were taking it out of me and not leaving me with enough resources, time, enough of me for me.

I’m still pretty tired.  But I’m over my insomnia of earlier in the week and my mental reserves have been recharged too.  It’s nothing huge, it’s lots of small things.

It’s swimming with my mum on Tuesday night and introducing her to one of my best friends.

It’s swimming up and down, up and down in the pool bouncing off and competing against my friend without either of us acknowledging we were doing it but both of us knowing it all the same.

It’s the longest swim for years as a result of that.

It’s receiving small compliments.

It’s hearing myself praised to others for the same things and realising those compliments really are the real deal.

It’s the people who get offered  free stuff they don’t want but who take it because they know I will.  And who don’t let me turn it down no matter how much I protest.

It’s a phone call asking if you want company.  And the fact that when you say yes they tell you their already waiting outside your house.

It’s being told that the silliest thing is impressive and laughing at the ridiculous things you do.

It’s the friend who gets disability and no matter what you say will just get it, laugh if you need it, listen if you don’t and then get on with it.

It’s asking a small accessibility question and being told that not only had they realised I’d have the question, it was the first thing that she had thought about.

And it’s hearing that there’s an answer ready and waiting.

It’s hot southern fried chicken for lunch.  In a baguette with the bread and flora all melty from the heat.  Twice in three days.

It’s learning that I will get to do something small but that I love to do when June comes.

It’s the thought of going out to Millets for breakfast tomorrow.

It’s having e-mails.

E-mails that can be as good as a hug,

It’s having friends who can make me smile for hours on end and realise that I am loved.

Simply because I saw their name in the “from” box on my e-mails.  (Hi Maryse!)

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