No more pictures of him, I am told, so I’ll just describe what I see. I see my wonderful husband sorting through a chest of drawers. This chest of drawers is in our living room as it is a lovely piece of furniture. He wears union jack sweat bands on his wrists and his old school tie, which is far too small, tied around his neck, not collar. He wears a striped polo shirt, jeans and boating shoes.
I see Miss Puddleduck dancing to Avicii wearing an old cravat tied around her waist and a travel eye mask on her forehead. Her moves are stylistically appropriate, expressive and rhythmically accurate.
I see Rich Tea boy’s face lit by the illumination of an iPad screen. He sticks his tongue out with concentration and is oblivious of his younger sister wafting her dancing arms in front of his face or leaping off the sofa beside him.
I see Miss Friendship quietly watching over his shoulder until she can’t ignore the hefty beat of the music and joins Miss Puddleduck on the dance floor with grace and elegance that defines her as a dancer with some training.
Even quieter, at the table in the corner, sits Longshanks. He remains conscious of everyone else, however, shown as one of his sisters kicks a stool by mistake and he comments “Oops!”. He is the mastercraftsman at work. Here he is and this is what he is doing; modeling HMS Victory:
I see my family, in one room and I love them all for who they are. I see the fire lit, toys on the floor, Christmas presents waiting to be wrapped and school work that hasn’t been put away from today. I am content to enjoy and treasure the moment of just being family.