Lying Low

When caring takes a toll

I’ve been a bit quiet recently, hiding in the shadows. Somehow, unsurprisingly, the last few years have caught up on me once more, and I have been forced to admit I need to look after myself better, pay attention to my health.

In Twelve Moons I wrote about my experience of caring for a very poorly child amongst the ruins of chronically under-resourced health and education systems. My memoir is one of hope and seeking magic amongst the mundane but, as I have said before, my life continued after the last page of the book, and not long after Twelve Moons was published another one of my daughters became very ill. Just as I dared to hope that I could breathe more easily I was once again submerged back into the world of medical appointments, hyper vigilance and confinement.

Recently it feels as if the sun might be starting to emerge. Skies are widening once more and my heart is hopeful. But it seems to be the case that the moment when intensely challenging periods of time subside can also be the moment when life slams into me and knocks me to the ground.