Saturday, 8 October 2011

Quiet Kindnesses


All our sons are now overseas. This feels strange and unsettling.


Before their departure, our middle son, Mike, and his wife Kate, lived with us for over a year. A landlord who had suddenly turned vicious meant they'd had to find somewhere else to live. They were saving up for their overseas trip, so needed somewhere to live that had reasonable rent. Reasonable rent are two words that do not often go together. We made the offer they couldn't refuse. Live with us - for a reasonable rent - so that you can start saving.


It turned out to be a special time having them living with us. When they left in June this year, I missed them. I had enjoyed their company, support, cooking, their interesting, quirky, creative and non-materialistic take on life. I missed the quiet kindnesses, the peace, the wisdom, humour and thoughtfulness.

After the dust settles from the busy few weeks ahead, up until November, Robert and I will have our noses pointed towards Christmas and New Year. This year Christmas will be a very different for us - we are going to South-East Asia to spend it with our son Steve, his lovely wife and two adorable kids. Then we will spend New Year with them in their home in Kyoto, Japan.


After so long writing only in any interstices discovered between interruptions, one day soon I will have all the time and calmness I desire at my disposal. I will be able to truck on with the novel so far I have only pecked at. It will be terrifying.

2 comments:

Lydia said...

What a perfect post, with beautiful words balanced with just the right images. Thank you for sharing these sweet sentiments with your readers, Kay.

Your lovely phrase "quiet kindnesses" reminded me of this, one of my favorites by Leonard Cohen, read by him: Days of Kindness.

Kay McKenzie Cooke said...

Lydia - Thank you so much. I try to write it as it is ... I'm now about to look up that Cohen link you so KINDLY dropped in my comments box! Thanks again. :)

Harbour

Harbour
'how this all harbours light'