It’s very, very surreal when a week starts and ends in exactly the same place but at opposite ends of the spectrum.
In the beginning it was fast and fun and nerve wracking and exciting all at once. People descended and things happened and I laughed and I felt absolutely embraced by a community.
At the end it was lonely and quiet and bleak and still, as if to emphasise just how much of an impact was made only days ago.
In the same vane, the bubbly little girl who giggled and jumped and grinned her way into the new week became the sad eyed, sleepy, spotty little girl with eyelashes glistening with tears and a trembling bottom lip before the week was out.
It’s shown us how to be thankful; thankful that chickenpox, although horrible, has only hit us relatively mildly, thankful for the outpouring of love that has come for all over.