Not a particularly bad one, but the kind of day where it feels like the universe has slipped off it's space hopper a little bit?!
That's my day today.
We are either due a full moon or somebody has laced the water supply with something trippy enough to turn the children into full on feral beasts! Not just mine... everybody's children! My facebook newsfeed is full of reports of grumpy grotbags. Work was incredibly challenging. The Boy Child was barely responsive this morning, albeit temporarily. The Banshee on the other hand! Full of the gloom and an emotional basketcase to boot! They say never to work with children or animals... I'd say there is a very fine line between the two and today distinguishing whether they are human or wild beasts has been difficult to say the least. Factor into the mix a very tired me (entirely my own fault!) and it's a recipe for disaster.
With a facey timeline full of despair and bizarre news stories about super cats and local misery and all sorts of glumness it's easy to become bogged down with the mood and become despondent and grumpy. But then I was reminded that, despite how real and relevant your trials and tribulations are to you personally, there is always somebody who is feeling it more than you, somebody whose lot is considerably worse than yours, a person who would probably trade their limbs to be in your position.
That's not to say that our issues are trivial and unimportant - they aren't. They're very valid and real to us. But as I've scrolled through the posts, a face keeps popping out at me, one story in particular, a very moving and inspirational account of one person's own battle with every adversity and his triumphs. That story is Stephen's Story.
On wednesday 14th May Stephen Sutton lost the fight against cancer aged just 19 years old. His story has reached millions od people worldwide and has been flying around the internet, raising an astonishing amount of money in the process. Perhaps more importantly, this young man from Staffordshire has raised an awareness in people - not just regarding the terminal disease that cut his life short, but a stark reminder that our lives are for living and, no matter how bad things may seem, the show must go on.
Stephen became a sensation, determined to cram as much happiness excitement and happiness into the time he had left. He drew up a bucket list and was supported by people the world over, the average Joe Bloggs and celebrities alike. In addition to fulfilling some of the ambitions on his own wish list, Stephen set out to raise £10,000 for teenagers with cancer, and as his final days approached the world watched as he exceeded his own target and generated a donation frenzy that has resulted in over £3.5 million raised at the last count.
I'll never be able to sum up in a paragraph or two the overall impact this guy has had on all who followed his journey but he's made me do something today that I don't do very often. I stopped to think.
Whilst sat in my boiling hot car, feeling a bit overwhelmed with how my day was going so far, it suddenly occurred to me that a family were grieving the loss of someone remarkable, irreplaceable, inspiring and devoted, someone who campaigned tirelessly and selflessly to make a difference in the lives of other teenagers in his position - despite knowing that he would never benefit physically from the efforts he'd made. As I thought about Stephen's family, my thoughts naturally turned to my own children. 10 years, 9 years and 5 years old. A happy life in the grand scheme of things. Healthy too. Surrounded by friends and a loving family, in possession of everything they need and a lot of the things they want.
So, I can't have a hot shower. The thermostatic cartridge is bust.
I can't have a MacDonald's because I need to lose weight.
I can't afford a holiday in the sunshine.
I can only gaze longingly at shiny new cars.
I don't get paid a lot.
I sometimes find my job stressful and unrewarding.
I wish I had more time with my husband, selfishly just us two.
I have to sit in a sweltering swimming pool while the kids have their lessons when I'd rather be at home in the garden.
But tonight, as I round up the troops ready for bed, I'll be able to plant a kiss on those rosebud lips, that sweet face and the reluctant cheek respectively, tell them how much I love them, wish them sweet dreams and safety from the biting bedbugs and ultimately hold them close to me... It might only be a moment, but it's enough. And Those are things Stephen's mother will likely long and ache for, today and forever.
For the tender touch and the unconditional love I receive from my children I will always be grateful. When I feel that the Gods aren't on my side and that my day could be going better I will remind myself that my day could be a lot different and I'll remember that there are more important things than parking spaces close to the leisure centre, running out of milk, children fighting amongst themselves, split ends, the spot on my chin, a non-functioning shower and a bank balance that has seen better days.
We have our kids, and they have us. And for as long as that lasts, I will be grateful.
Thank you Stephen for reminding me of what is and what is not important. For giving me perspective. You made an impact and the ripples have spread far and wide.
If you've had one of those days, check Stephen's Story out. Count your blessings and thank your lucky stars for each and every one of them, just like I've done.
https://www.facebook.com/StephensStory?ref=ts&fref=ts
https://twitter.com/_StephensStory
https://www.justgiving.com/stephen-sutton-tct
