Living a Good Life

Blimey I've let myself get a bit moochy the last few days!

It all started when I had contact from an old chum from way back (way, way back) to tell me that a chap I'd dated at Uni had sadly passed away.

Now it's no secret, but in case you didn't know, I'm 45.

It's no age to be passing away.

And although I've not kept in contact with many folks from way back then, it still came as a bit of a splap! in the face that someone I'd been close to for a wee while had died.

Fast forward a couple of weeks, past the recent daughter's nuptials, to last week; and I'm updating the online family tree on Genesreunited: adding the son-in-law, changing GD's surname, etc.

And I thought I'd look up a couple of names from Uni on their 'friend finder', just for curiosity's sake.

Here's what I found out:

One of my contemporaries is now a producer on BBC Radio 3! Well done him!

Another - a girl I used to regularly chat into the wee small hours with - is a headteacher in Wales. Good for you, chick!

And yesterday I found another girl has become a prize-winning published author and dynamic speaker.

Didn't I come through a very talented stable?!

So why the 'moochy mood'?

Why am I feeling just a little bit blue?

I know why.

Because up until my breakdown, I 'had it all' too.

I was at the top level of a demanding but very rewarding career.  

We had our own house - albeit with some mortgage still - but it was a stunning architect-designed detached 4-bed. 

We holidayed every year and took weekend breaks.

We had a new car every other year.

And if someone from my Uni had googled and found me back then, my life looked fabulous.

But.

Actually.

It wasn't fabulous, was it?

The demanding but rewarding career caused the breakdown that I was bloody lucky to recover from.

The myriad of 'friends' we had: including blogging royalty (who I had thought my best friend for some time) realised we could no longer provide the treats they wanted, and I was just too needy once I became ill. 

The house was expensive without the guarantee of my income, and rather than fall into debt we sold it.

The holidays were wonderful, but cost money that we didn't know we'd have anymore, if I didn't work again..

And a car is just a car...

So no.

It looked good from the outside.

But do you know what I am proud of, that someone looking me up won't see?

I recovered from my illness and returned to full-time work.

Our marriage is amazing. (Not just words.)

My beautiful daughter is a fantastic, kind caring person.

The grandchildren are happy and healthy.

I smile. 

Everyday.

I'm happy.

So I needed to stop and take a little stock this morning.

The friends I do have - including those I've met through my blog - are real ones. They stood alongside us before and during my hideous times, and are still here now.

I might not have a hand crafted oak staircase, but I've got a hand sewn patchwork on my bed that charts the hours I spent just sitting and getting better.

I might not conjure a six-figure salary, but I can magic up a meal from a meagre handful of ingredients.

And I might not be as dynamic as once I might have been..but my darling daughter tells me everyday she is proud of me.

Reality? Check.