Sunday, February 28, 2010
Today Luke isn't 30; just like he wasn't 10, 18 or or 29. He is in fact 6 and a half. He doesn't even get to be 7 and a half as they didn't have a leap year in 2000. Luke (third son) is our prodigal son and we have often put his lostness down to his lack of real years. We have banned him from our house; cursed his very existence and carried him around with us everywhere. Today is another fatted calf occasion, we don't need much excuse! Over the last 18 months - since he met and married Aleks and got himself a whole new family taking his responsibilities wonderfully, amusingly, seriously - he has warranted many a feast and celebration and thankfully joined in all of ours; accepted back now into the family fold. He is now the favourite uncle of Harry when two years ago he didn't see him; Harry has renamed him Uncle Pickle and Luke says it's the greatest honour he could have ever had.
Of course old Sod's law is about and no sooner do we get those demons out of the way then my very own version turns up. But for now I have fashioned a 30 shaped cake and we have balloons and bunting. He will rustle up the most wonderful Malaysian beef, Aleks will do her Japanese soup and there will be my trifle too.
Tomorrow it's back to the ward and the pink needles and I have started wearing the scarves because there is definitely less not more hair on my head now. But I know the family are one, and that my son has reached 6 and a half and that is the best medicine I could possibly have.