Sunday 17th April 2022

7076/19596

Last Easter Sunday I again had to bow out of things due to the after effects of my (super-light) chemo. This year I was on board and playing tag and football with the kids and having a running race against my daughter who is pretty much faster than me now. She also beat me at football, but the goal she was aiming at was a garden shed, whilst my goal was a small toddler’s car (that they would sit on and push along), so it wasn’t entirely fair. It’s fun to be at the point where you can compete on an almost equal footing and I was determined to enjoy it as my kids are only going to get stronger and I am only going to get weaker. But the important thing is that this time last year, had I made it to the Easter lunch, I would not have been able to play and this year I am able to operate as a dad again. I also had to sit down a lot whilst these inexhaustible kids also exhausted their grandad, but that doesn’t matter.
I realised I’d forgotten to record the intro to next Friday’s book club so tried to find a quiet place in the garden to record it, but Phoebe saw what I was doing and wanted to know what was going on and also to join in. She turns out to be a lot funnier than me. You might not want to skip the intro to this one!
Though Ernie is very much still a kid, with occasionally moments where you get a glimpse of something yet to come, like his moments of self-awareness that he can’t yet be as funny as he wants to be due to the limitations of being 4 - he’s smart and affectionate, but still likely to bash his way out of any problem, I sometimes forget Phoebe is a kid. Those occasional tantrums like when she messed up her bike trick or when like tonight, I pointed out that she could connect two big bits of the jigsaw she was doing (which I think she was more upset about than if she’d heard I had died) remind you that she’s still a kid, but I’ve always tried to talk to both kids like they’re equals (though I try to remember not to swear), though ones that I know I have to protect and nurture. I had a nice chat with Phoebe tonight where I told her that I sometimes she forget she’s a kid, but then sometimes remember, “Like when I cry,” she wisely noted. That’s exactly what I meant. “Do adults cry?” She asked and I told her that they do, though not often over things like someone helping them with a jigsaw. I told her that I had cried when I was ill last year and worried about what might happen to me. She didn’t really remember me being ill, though seemed to recall me being in bed for a while. We obviously didn’t want to worry them back then so didn’t go into too much detail about what was going on though Phoebe had asked a friend “Is Daddy going to die?” Which was a tough one to answer. 
Despite my jigsaw faux pas we ended the day on good terms. Kids feel stuff every strongly but forgiveness or forgetfulness comes very quickly too. I know Phoebe is trying to protract the time before she has to go to sleep, but I love these late night chats (when I am awake enough to immerse myself in them) and on a day like today it really strikes me how much my experience in 2021 has made me truly appreciate stuff like this. I am very glad to have made it to this Easter and be able to join in this time. Like another guy who thought He’d never see another Easter Sunday, but then managed to pull Himself together and get all better and see his mates after all. I am not saying I am Jesus.





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