This morning both girls are playing on my bed, tickling and giggling. Star sits Poppy on her lap and they read a book together, Star doing the sentences and pausing for Poppy to fill in the animals.
Outside my window our stubborn pomegranate tree is golden and starting to shed leaves. Through the white curtain lace it’s a spectacular sight. I’ve cut it to the ground several times over the years for not fruiting. It regrows each time. When I finally bought a replacement it suddenly produced 5 fat red pomegranates. It’s a pathetic output for a big tree, but I only eat about 5 pomegranates a year anyway. I gave the new tree away.
There’s eggs and bacon in the fridge for breakfast, warm dressing gowns for trekking out to the cold kitchen to put the kettle on.
After a month of feeling our family is on fire, it’s sweet nectar and I drink in every moment. I love this family with all my heart.
Poppy continues to looks stronger and healthier by the day. Star has had her first stable week following 9 months of unfolding crisis. This morning there’s laughter in my house. Rose is away early to the markets, planning a baby shower for my sister. There’s life instead of fear and pain. My heart rests. My heart sings.