It Wasn’t All Bad
If someone asked me what my happiest memories of summer 2011-summer 2012 were, I’d struggle to tell you. I mostly remember the bad times, the tears, the anti depressants, pumping myself like a dairy cow. I barely remember my niece being born, Moos first Christmas.
The memories come to me as flash backs at times, any little thing can set them off, a smell, a song, an anecdote from a loved one. This morning it’s a photograph. It’s one of the few early ones of Moo and I that I have. We’re both beaming at the camera, Moo wearing a cardigan knitted by her Nana, green with daisy buttons. I loved that cardigan.
And then I remember.
Cuddling Moo to sleep, bouncing her gently in my arms. A finger in her sweaty fist. The smell of skin and milk. I can almost feel the weight of her. the heat radiating from her chubby little body. I didn’t care that I was ‘making a rod for my back’, this was how I enjoyed spending her nap time. I’d love to cuddle her to sleep like that, just one more time. It’s proof that even in the darkest of times, when you’re consumed by crazy, the real you is still there, fighting to get out.