I am happy.

I'm sitting here. My friend plays guitar. We've eaten a solid rustic meal. The lights are low. The dog is asleep. I am happy.

The music speak to my soul. We have been promised a superb pudding which probably has more sugar in it than I should eat. It's warm in this room and I am comfortable, the pain of my Fibromylagia flare-up only niggling spitefully for now. I am happy.

My guitarist friend is practicing for a gig in Cambridge on Thursday. He has come so far from the talented but painfully shy man I met years ago. He is making me smile with his mid-act banter, being rehearsed on this friendly audience of three humans and a variety of furry pets. I am happy.

I push the sadness and worries of life to one side, relishing these moments of joy in music, food and most importantly friendship. Yes I have pain, in my limbs, in my mind and in my heart. I cannot dwell on the desperation I feel about my sick Granny, my friends who are moving away, friends who are suffering and the inevitable changes in my existence I can do nothing about.

madmumof7 and granny- pic taken last summer

For now, I do my best to just "be" in a house with people who always make me feel relaxed. The (large) dog has briefly woken to rearrange herself on my lap, nuzzling as if she understands my inner sadness. So, for now,  I am happy.

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