On the whole, I think I am a pretty patient person. Long queues at the shops don’t worry me, red lights – not a problem. Kettle boiling, boil away. It is the things that are of the more emotional kind that I find harder to handle. For example, Georgia’s bedroom looks like a bomb’s gone off in it most of the time. As a result, Saturdays are spent throwing tantrums, arguing, crying rivers of tears, shouting, and that’s just me! I have tried telling her that if she did a little bit each day she would have nothing to do by the weekend to no avail so far. Even with all of those times I have gently reassured her that mum does have her head screwed on right (most of the time at least), she would still rather spend her Saturdays arguing and WISHING she’d done what I had done what I suggested in the first place. I live in the hope that one day the light will go on and it will be something we no longer argue about.

As hard as it might be to believe, I do have other weaknesses, all of which err on the side of the emotional rather than rational. One of my other weaknesses is never wanting to ask anyone to do something I am capable of myself, which means that I delegate nothing. I have learned that I do a disservice to myself by doing too much, and to others by denying them the opportunity to do something they are able to do and would probably do better. Sometimes it might take people a while to get it, and it’s in cases like that I have had to breathe and be patient and not rush in and do it for them.

I am a very emotional person. I wear my heart on my sleeve, you know exactly what I’m feeling every second that I’m feeling it. As ironic as it sounds since Chris died I have become much more adept at hiding how I’m feeling but I also think that I will always be emotional first and rational second. I wish like crazy sometimes that I would slow down and NOT say those things that are both unbecoming to me and hurtful to others or NOT press the send button with that less than conciliatory message about something that had ticked me off. Sometimes I wish I had just breathed, taken a second instead of charging in like a bull at a gate and reaping the consequences of hyper-emotionalism!

Of all of the times I wish I took the time to breathe, it’s at home with my family. I need to give them the chance to do what I hope they will, and usually do even if it doesn’t happen exactly when and how I think it should. For example, I was in the kitchen one night getting tea ready. I was madly peeling, chopping, mixing, and Chris was on the lounge. There was still washing to be brought in, recycling to be taken out, and I thought the least Chris could do was ask if there was anything that needed doing, or heaven forbid show some initiative. Just a side note – all of that seems so ridiculous now and I would move heaven and earth to still have Chris lounging on the couch. Having said that, the crankier I got the fiercer the chopping got. The more frustrated I became the more banging and clanging came from the kitchen. Sure, I could have asked Chris to do those things but it bugged me that I had to ask for something that Chris should have known to do by looking into his crystal ball!!!! At the time I had no doubt that if I had complained the reaction would not have been good so I took a deep breath and said nothing.

Imagine my surprise and delight when two minutes after I had decided not to say anything, Chris took the rubbish out and brought the washing in! Just breathe!

So I am emotional, complicated, simple & hard work. And I have learned that life is emotional and complicated and simple and hard work. There is a saying that lots of people have framed and hang on their walls – “Life is not measured by the number of breaths we take, but by the moments that take our breath away.” So it’s not just a matter of having the patience to breathe but it’s also the ability to recognise the moments that take our breath away. Here’s the thing, it’s the very simple that costs nothing in terms of monetary value but are invaluable in terms of the way they add to my life by filling my heart to capacity with joy and hope and peace and love. And once there, in that place where my simple heart feels happy, the capacity of my heart expands. Where do those simple places exist?

It’s my eldest son curled up on my lounge cackling to some of our favourite sit-coms after our family tea together. It’s the big arms of my second son draped over my shoulder and the quietly spoken “yeah I can do that” when I need his help with something. It’s my girls who with a flurry of activity rush out of the house to get ice-cream together  “just because”. It’s the lame family joke which is repeatedly shared but which always results in everyone dissolving into laughter and tears. It’s the sound of plates and glasses clinking, and the noise of conversation over meals shared with extended family and friends, which is a symphony to my ears. It’s the banter of friends which to anyone else would sound like we don’t like each other at all, not knowing that insults are our love language. It is celebrating wins, big or small, like a role in a musical production or starting a course someone had always wanted to do but had never had the chance to do before now. It is those moments that fill my heart to overflowing – my emotional, complicated, simple, and sometimes hard work heart.

So I am going to try and do two things – just breathe AND wait for those moments which take my breath away. 

Always and forever……..