Not knowing

One of the reasons I've never been drunk is I'd hate to not know what happened whilst I was too inebriated to be aware. So one of the odd things about my op was putting 2 and 2 together afterwards as to what might have happened. The sore throat – presumably grazing from an airway put into me after I was anaesthetised and removed before I woke up so I never got to see it. Those red marks on my cheekbones – perhaps where it was taped down.

I guess much as I like to think I'm usually fully aware of what's in my life, the truth is I'm not. I've only got a bit of a glimpse according to how I'm experiencing it. Today I'm feeling downhearted – the impending departure of my children for such a long stretch again; a feeling of losing the battle to do all the stuff that needs doing; and sadness that my attempts to love as fully as possible are not always welcomed. I think I shall remind myself that I of course cannot grasp the bigger picture and just need to stay focused on my mission to love, love, love. The hoovering can wait, I'm off to smile at strangers...