It isn't So Grim After All

This sledge seems to break the abusive curse that I was wrongfully put under for the past few days. An angel, hidden in the body of a neighbour, quietly placed the sledge at our gate, hoping he wasn't being watched when he quickly glanced over the glass panels of our house before he disappeared out of my sight.

That moment felt like my cries had been heard. That simple gesture, so thoughtful and generous, lifted my dangerously low spirits by a good fraction. I went over with Johann to say thank you, and found out they had offered to lend Enzian and Ludwig one to play two days ago, to which they politely rejected but expressed that they will get their mother's permission first before they take from them.

When the snow is thick enough, everywhere is filled with kids with sledges, kids on sledges, mothers/fathers pulling a child on a sledge behind them. My boys do not have one. We have overlooked this area and did not organise at least one for them. Every child has a snow or ski suit to play in the snow. The suits are water-proof and insulated, allowing longer playtime in the snow. My boys do not own one. They are expected to have a snow suit and a sledge for their sports lesson. This is entirely new to me. I had no choice but to write a note for both of them to be excused from sports and that we are getting one for them asap.

I remember when the weather started turning cold in summer, my boys were the only children still wearing short-sleeve T-shirts, when everyone was already wearing long-sleeve ones. Because the warmer clothings were all packed in the container, which is still stuck in Hamburg today.

In this respect, I must say we are very unprepared and ill-equipped for the weather and seasonal changes.

Back to the topic. I guess I must hit the bottoms first before I could bounce back up again. Hitting the bottom sure hurt. But not hitting it would mean I wouldn't be able to appreciate little things like this (sledge) more so than I should. The dreamy, floaty feeling of rising up from the lowest is rather ecstatic, addictive and most fundamentally, empowering. It gives me strength, hope and reason to move on, to move forward.

I have since picked myself up and do what I have to do. The feeling of happiness is coming back to me again. I no longer feel sorry for myself. I don't have to. Because, I realised, there are really quite a few people out there who really care and worry about me. In my contorted mind then, I sincerely thought I was so alone. However, in reality, I have people, far and near, that love me so much that even they are too shy to admit it ;).

(Please scroll down for a few new entries which I had backdated.)