I have just had the most wonderful weekend celebrating my daughter-in-law’s birthday. The house was full of my step children, son-in-law and our beloved granddaughter. When they all left on the Sunday afternoon, my wife and I snuggled in the warmth of house, looking out at the snow which had made the West End (our district), look something like a belated Christmas postcard. We were both saddened by the kids departure, the house seemed so empty.
The value of a loving and supportive family to me, a depressive, is worth a thousand or more anti depressants. But just for a moment, I was uneasy as it seemed like a layer of protective armour had been stripped away. When we play games in the lounge, I am ‘horse’ to my granddaughter. Despite years of back problems, I give in every time as we create adventures among the furniture and bookshelves, Grandma joining in when not distracted by the every day rough and tumble.
The weather is getting me down, and soon we are to fly off and bathe in some warm sun around the equator. But nothing warms me as much as a loving family. I am lucky, this time around I see it in all its glory.