At home together
For the very first time we are at home together. We have been together before, yes. We all went on Christmas holidays together to celebrate H’s twenty first birth day. But that was not a time of togetherness. It was a time of struggle and accommodation, literally and figuratively. Suddenly we feel like one family. H drove off this morning to observe a primary school, taking Caleb and Rosie with her in the car. The girls appear to have overcome all their differences and are swapping clothes and make up, not to mention stories about us. C may have a crush on H already. G thinks so at least.
Something that makes me really happy is the healing process between G and J. The other night he was actually crying for mum. Today he said “I love you mummy,” as he set off for school. He is a clean boy now, and is enjoying his new class at school. His colour work on Henry 8 was judged best in class, as was his tulip painting at the end of last term. He has started to show more of the artistic talent I have felt was there all the time.
The way we worked as a team packing up the tent at the end of the summer holiday was highly significant too, but that was before H joined us. The story of the last two weeks has been one of integrating her into the family at last. She has charmed the boys and formed a stronger connection with G, though it was already strong. I dare to say I have done well in quietly allowing her to make a home with us, even though that has meant her spreading her mess in all but one room in the house. She even colonised R’s room.
R has been staying at her mother’s till yesterday, though she has been here every day for rehearsals. Now it appears a miracle has happened; she has allowed H to sleep in her room. This morning she went to school with her hair straightened with H’s electric gadget.
Tomorrow H is going to take me to see a flat she might want to buy near here.
G thinks it is daft, but H is her own master in these things.
C is very excited by all the new stimuli at secondary school. He loves it. Everyone is helping him settle in, one way or another. R plastic covered his exercise books for him last week after school.
Everyone but H plays cricket in the garden. Even visitors and neighbours are dragged into playing. It all echoes with the winning of the ashes by the National team. Never much of a cricketer at school, I achieved my first ever hat trick yesterday, with mum and boys falling to successive balls.
G and I had our joint three day birthday at the week end. It was the best birthday I have ever had. We went to Stratford to see the best production I have ever seen there. It was a comedy brim full of wonderful errors. I am back to contemplating the mystery of the twin and his lost and found self.
This week has not been all brightness though. I was in despair over the play I am directing on Monday. It seemed impossible that R and her three school friends would be ready to perform tonight. Wednesday felt like a triumph, even if they are still far from perfect. They have come so far in such a short time. Directing your own daughter is a rare and wonderful thing. I would not advise any one to try it though. But it has strengthened us. Her friends admire me to some degree I believe, which is good for her. They just about keep her in line.
Life is never a bed of roses for us; except it is a bed of roses, ones with very sharp thorns. Poor H. Her uncle is in hospital suddenly with three times terminal cancer. It hit us just on my birth day. When she suddenly disappeared in the night I was very worried and struggling with thoughts of mortality through the early hours. But H had just gone out to see a boy friend or a boy who is a friend. She was back in the morning.
I am back in the world again at least for the next few days. G is ready to go out to work as well. H is all set for Cambridge. R is winning lots of merits at school and the boys are well settled.
Is this as good as it gets?
