Today I got to see: that babe in arms was now walking, in that staggering “look at me!” way they do, with arms at stiff right angles as she toddled in glee at being able to. I laughed. I could relate.
Those two newborns were now three months old and surprisingly bigger. That baby over there in his daddy’s arms was now old enough to be smiling back at me and laughing at my peek-a-booing.
The woman who’d told me in great excitement that she was expecting her first, and I’d quietly thought, You are? Where?, was now clearly quite pregnant. Life continues onward.
Quite a few people made a big deal over my being back.
And I thought, as I did during Stitches and all the joy and all the greetings there, how, throughout January and the first part of February, I kept trying to remind myself that the day would come when I would be so glad to be alive. It was something to try to convince myself of; I sure didn’t feel that way yet. But there was this sense of obligation to my family and to all the people praying their hearts out for me to keep on slogging through it all whatever may come, and to keep a sense of cheerfulness as much as possible.
It has been a weekend of much love and great joy. I feel immersed in life again. I wouldn’t have missed it for anything. I owe much. Thank you all for helping see me through.
Wind up the yarn into balls in celebration and forward knit!