Here comes the...

Last night, I met Pook after work, and we went and had a nice dinner out. Proper grown ups, we are. Then I got to finally find out what his big surprise was. Stall tickets for Pygmallion at the Grand Opera House. I may have squeed a little loudly. And bounced some.

The play was fantabulous.

Today is a little odd.
It's so strange to be writing the date on paperwork while sitting in the office.

If circumstances were a little different, I'd be having my hair done about now, and trying not to smudge my nail polish while eating toast and putting on mascara simultaneously. My mother would be fussing that she'd never be ready in time, and my dad would be trying to remain stoic while grappling with his bow tie.

It's a world of "what if", isn't it?
I know that things are only postponed, not cancelled.
I know I have a million things to be thankful for.
My dad is alive,and well, and getting stronger by the day. Four months ago, I wouldn't have been able to say that. Four months ago, we didn't know if he would ever wake up again.

I feel petulant and silly and more than a bit selfish that I'm being all misty-eyed about things today. There is, however, nothing in the world that can stop that little voice in the back of my head reminding me that today was to be my wedding day.

Next Wednesday, I shall not be sipping cocktails and doing things that people on honeymoon do.
I shall celebrate my birthday with shopping, cake, and stitch and bitching.

I will remember that walking, breathing, the ability to wiggle our toes and scratch our itches are things that we all take for granted far too often, and that laughter and knitting make the bad times a whole lot more bearable.