As a Millpond

It was barely lapping when I walked along the Prom this morning. A vague whooshing as it rolled gently over rocks, that is all. The air didn’t move either. The clouds hung heavy. No one was stirring. My legs are moving better, my hips are less stiff. I do feel old. Older at least. But that is OK. A fishing boat was all lit up ready to go. Oh, it does gladden my heart to see it. Those bright traffic light lights shining out of the dark. I wanted to see it take to sea but it was stalling, no doubt awaiting its crew.

He is wobbly again. His confidence is so brittle. He will see the Doc today. I hope it helps. He seems a nice man, patient and compassionate.

I need to be prepared to listen, to pay attention, to be steady for him. To keep the momentum of our life going. For as long as he needs me to do so. It is enough. Some days it is absolutely enough.

And an American company reacted positively to make request to forge a new brass ball for my bedstead. I am so pleased. Cock-a-hoop. I love their ‘can do’ attitude. Fingers crossed, eh? x