I took the boy to an eye test last week, though i am not worried about his vision now, I do expect that at some point he will need glasses. And I’d prefer that he was used to eye tests before he needs to get glasses. The conclusion was that his vision is slightly off 20/20, but since he can still identify the difference between a helicopter speck in the sky, and an aeroplane speck in the sky, I am not yet worried.
He’s been coming along well with his swimming lessons, and is gaining confidence in the water. I am so proud of his bravery and willingness to try new things, and his ability to bounce back when things get a bit scary.
On Tuesday the family is gathering to celebrate dad’s birthday up at Pearl Beach. And on Saturday the 29th we’ll be collecting the boys ashes, and having a picnic at the grave site. The 29th of January was their due date. I should be hugely pregnant and waiting to meet my precious babies. I should be worrying about the birth, and how I am going to cope without sleep. Wondering what they would be like, their little faces, their personalities, the feel of their breath on my cheek.
The date is just a number on a page, it has no power. And for the rest of my life, I’ll be reminding myself of that.