Pristine

The blog took a back seat for a week while my troubled son was here. The time we spent together was very good. He said it was better than the last time he was here. He filled me with joy, opened up, smiled, improvement was evident. He loves our new dog Sheba and she loved him too as only dogs can. They seem to have an uncanny nose for those who need love. She stayed close to him. So did I, without crowding him.

We (Mrs Horse and I) didn't hassle him about getting a job, just tried to love and enjoy him as he is. There is a lot to enjoy. We love him so deeply, as with all our sons. The Irish have a belief that those like him are "touched" by God, which makes them extra special, a kind of measure of how we are doing, caring for the troubled.

I've been turning over in my mind my decision to leave my career, other possible futures which I felt might out his future at grave risk. As I spoke or did things with him I was reminded of the words of an old song:

I don't care how much it cost,
I don't count the loss,
As long as I
Can see your face again.

That about sums it up don't you think? There are so many lost unloved souls today, I don't know why. But we are called upon sometimes to reach out and be there for people.

Oh! I had my delayed heart tests - my arteries were described by the specialist as "pristine". So much for my worries! Pristine is my word for the day, a beautiful word.