Today K and I popped along to a friend of ours’ renaming ceremony (like a wedding but not, it’s a long story). I walked in the door to be greeted by a phalanx of lovely ladies with whom I used to enjoy nights out after work at the Theatre and, for that matter, enjoyed messing around with (not like that!) at work in the Theatre. The troubling thing about all these ladies I knew so well but haven’t seen for ages is that every single one of them were holding babies. And not just littl’uns they’d borrowed for the say: actual, honest-to-God offspring of the person holding them.
I know I’m not the oldest man on the planet (although I’m a lively age if you combine me and my donor’s ages), but it didn’t half feel weird to see so many friends with kids. Not content with missing out on new boyfriends, weddings, promotions at work and all that gubbins over the last couple of years since I left work after becoming too ill, it seems I’ve also managed to miss the birth of a whole new generation of bairns who will no doubt one day rule the Theatre and the City.
If most of the guest weren’t running around changing, feeding and chasing sprogs, they were doing their best to look after those whose arrivals were imminent. I’ve never seen such a collection of virility in one place at one time. The invitation said “bring a bottle” but I didn’t think it meant it that way.
Still, baby scares aside, it was an awesome afternoon. I’ve missed out on so many of Lea’s major events in her life over the last couple of years – her engagement, the birth of her daughter, her daughter’s Christening – all because I was too ill to contemplate an afternoon out of the house or I was couped up in hospital, so it was amazing to be part of this one. It was another solid reminder of the way my life has changed in the last five months.
It was funny seeing all my old workmates again, too, as most of them haven’t seen me post-transplant, so it was great to see so many people’s reactions. Many of them had followed K’s blogs through the ups and downs and were chuffed to finally see me, which is always a nice feeling.
In the evening we shot over to the ‘rents to catch up with my Gramps over dinner. He’s been a bit down after he had to cancel a holiday to Devon because he had another DVT, but he seems to have rallied pretty well, which was good to see. He’s still an amazing man for a 92-year-old and is still capable of things that a lot of 70-year-olds would struggle with, but after a few DVTs he’s been warned off plane travel, which means no more of his over-seas holidays exploring jungles and safari-ing. It’s really sad for him and I know exactly how he feels after 3 years of not being able to leave the country. I’m the lucky one in that I can now enjoy my freedom, whilst his is being curtailed, but he seems happy enough for now, which is encouraging. Either that or he’s being all stiff-upper-lip about it, which is perfectly possible, too.
In an effort to keep up as much rest as I can this week after Tresco, we didn’t hang about too late and got back home and in bed by 10.30, which I have to admit was pretty nice.
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