Tough

My daughter recently graduated as a textile designer with a first class honours degree and I am so proud of her.  She has since exhibited twice in London and has been invited to a prestigious event in Paris this weekend as one of the top graduates in her field to exhibit there too, plus she has a fantastic opportunity interning for a company in London.  I am really excited for her, and I desperately need to be earning a decent wage to help with the rent of her flat.  However, work at the moment is in short supply, and a troublesome persistent cough has also sent me back to hospital for a chest x-ray.  I’ve lost about a stone in weight in a very short time, but of course it could also be down to stress (I hope so).  So, more hospital appointments, blood tests and so forth.  Life keeps throwing things at me; I get up ready to have another crack at earning a crust, but then something else comes along and kicks me in the face, and I somehow have to struggle to my feet and carry on again.  But I have to admit I feel weary at the moment, weary and tired, and just hope like my friend in hospital for a chink of light.  I so want to be positive for Lucy and be there for her, but in spite of me trying hard to fake it, I’m not great company at the moment.  Life is so bloody tough sometimes.