13 Festive Sleeps To Go...Gratitude

I opened up my blog today not knowing what I was going to write.  Sometimes it happens like this and today it meant that instead of rushing in knowing exactly what was there to be said, I took some time to read some of the other blogs I follow.

Earlier in the year, a friend of mine was diagnosed with cancer.  She weathered an array of aggressive treatments and has spent the last 5 months in India, giving herself the space to heal.  She only started blogging again recently and I read today that she has come home to Paris and it reminded me how much I love my little maisonette flat tucked away up here on Kingston Hill.  My sanctuary, where I can either invite the world in or take a brief respite from the little battles life presents on a daily basis.

Her words reminded me what there is to be grateful for and straight away it brought up some of the little pieces of news from family that have made my heart swell over the last week or so - like when my little sister was honoured as a life member of the NDSOC car club and I cried on the bus going to work reading how stunned and touched she was - or when my Mum's partner got the all clear after being rushed into hospital with an aggressive form of melanoma. Or the regular newsletter from my itinerant Dad-and-Stepmum chronicling their latest travels through Western Australia over the last few weeks and reminding us all that they having been living this gypsy dream of theirs for 3 years.  Or when when I sat with my partner, his ex and his son, cheering and clapping furiously at his daughter's end of year Christmas Dinner Concert last Saturday...

What a couple of weeks it has been.

So my brave, brave friend, in the midst of her journey, wrote her blog...and without even knowing it, became the inspiration for mine...

...a host of golden daffodils.

I got some wonderful news today. A lifelong friend of mine was recently diagnosed with cancer and has been preparing for her first round of surgery at the Marie Curie centre in Paris on Tuesday (for biopsies to assess the size of the tumour she has prior to any treatment/further operations)...the news is good with the tumour reducing in size since her original diagnosis meaning she will only need radiotherapy as opposed to chemotherapy...this journey of healing is not yet over for her but this news made my day...

We were born in neighbouring hospital beds in 1969 (she on July 31st, me on August 1st), two little Leo ladies who then went on to live on the opposites sides of Brisbane and then the world as our lives unfolded. As kids our Mums would visit each other - I remember we would get to play in their empty (of water, anyhow) in-ground pool (very special at the time as we only had an above ground one) and I would marvel at her independence and worldliness (she was visiting family in France from quite a young age and I just thought that was so-o-o grown-up).

The last time I saw Nat was in 2000 when Mum & I were in Paris for a week - the view from her window over the Paris rooftops was incredible - and I was so inspired by her love of life and her passion for her art (photography/documentary film-making). There is part of me that felt sad that it was her cancer diagnosis that opened up the flow of communication again but I am enormously glad of the opportunity to reach out and be part of her support network...

Nata was in surgery on Tuesday...and whilst I got the news today, my daffodils finally bloomed on Tuesday...the sight of these beautiful flowers breaking out across parks, gardens, roadsides back in 2004 (when I was really struggling with my relocation to London) were such a beacon of hope with their happy, hopeful faces and it seems perfect that they have appeared for Nata too...