“The writing prompt is: it’s raining you are not at home. Go!” We were sitting in deep shade in a leafy garden in Saxonwold at the first meeting of a local writers group that I’d attended. Without thinking I began to write about the first thing that popped into my brain.
On Thursday 19 October I was invited to share a little about our journey at the Reach For a Dream Foundation donor breakfast – here’s what I told them….
I wonder what it must take to wake up each day knowing that the odds are against you. That you will fail. And fail in a way where lives will be lost? What must it be like to spend your days with people who are in pain? Who are scared? Who are at their worst? Who are filled with the anguish and anger and blame of facing their mortality? What must it be like to know all this and to do the job anyway?
The phrase don’t count your chickens before they hatch, is playing on repeat.
The terrifying, hopeful, standing-on-the cliff-edge thing is that Josh seems to be getting better.
There’s a sense of walking into giant playroom where the kid who owns all the good stuff is excited that you want to come and play.