Sunday Mornings

Our churchToday I’m in a funk. Actually I’ve been in this funk for a few days now. Maybe it’s just the time of year, dark gloomy weather combined with the memories of the past Christmas, my first alone in oh, such a long time. My first with Albert. Or possibly it’s just sheer exhaustion gained from a gregarious baby who is simply refusing to sleep! Either way I’m feeling low.

I shouldn’t really be sad, I mean I sit here today cosy in my warm home, the wind blowing a gale outside my window. Albert’s snuggled in under my chin watching Christmas movies both of us in our pj’s and Oliver still in bed… He is a teenager after all. What could be better?

Well it’s Sunday morning. Which for as long as I can remember was my time. Prior to our moved to DE “he” would take Oli out for an adventure and give me an extra hour or two in bed. Bliss! We playfully called it “daddily duddly” time! The “adventure” itself may have only been going for a hair cut or a trip to the supermarket but let’s face it, time alone with daddy to a little boy is always exciting.

Oli loved their mornings together. On their return he would babble away about the games they played whilst driving; who won at eye spy and that daddy cheated, as always! Him beaming at his happy boy and the fun they had. A proud daddy for sure! Me happy with the love in my home. Life was good!

Then we moved to DE and the ritual of me time continued. The only difference being without the sleep. I would potter on in to town to meet my ladies. Two amazing ladies might I add!

Sunday morning breakfast became our church. We complained about the kids, the husbands, the other mum’s, chevron stripes, work etc but we always laughed. God we laughed! Especially when it came to ordering (in our broken German) which often went something like this…
“drei Omelettes mit Schinken und Käse bitte”
“drei?”
“Ja.”
“mit Schinken und Käse?”
“Ja!!!”
“Omelettes?”
“JA!”

Her-Huffs gets stress, cannot understand three women ordering three breakfasts.

Us- roll eyes, giggle- why doesn’t she get this? Every week it’s the same ritual?? Seriously even our German isn’t that bad!

During the summer we would sit outside basking in the sun for way too long; batting off calls from the kids fighting back home, or texts from the hubby asking where we put whatever unimportant object he couldn’t find, because it’s not right under his nose.
We would plan our next outing – generally a beer festival of some kind, or just a good old drinking session! During the winter we moved inside drowning in layer upon layer of German winter protection!

We would reminisce of times past, friends absent – still missed, but we always laughed. Regardless of the seriousness of the topic of the day these ladies knew just how to take any situation and take the piss. Even surviving cancer didn’t escape our gentle teasing!

On the occasions my ladies and I didn’t meet, “he”, Oli and I would do something together. Go to a flomarkt, visit a new town, go for a bike ride or simply go for breakfast together in one of the hundreds of cafes on our doorstep. It was great family time. Once again I felt so blessed for the joy and love in my home. Life in my eyes couldn’t have been better. Clearly he and I were not on the same page…he took advantage of my “me time” to get some “him” time  and the second I left the house he dashed off to shag his slutty mistress of the day!

After “D day” breakfast with my bitches continued but now we had a new team member in Albert!
Loved and pamper by my girls the poor kid was swapped between them a million times during those few hours together.
The laughing had slowed as they listened sympathetically to whatever new piece of information I had to share on the state of my once happy life and marriage. Even after weeks and months of story’s of his disgraceful behaviour they still sat and listened to my endless whining. Always offering support, words of love, of strength.
Often shocked at the new revelation but yet not surprised. Even back then, with the little we knew of exactly what he had been doing, we wouldn’t have put anything past him. He was capable of anything! And has proven as such a million times over.

Those breakfasts were my sanctuary, my safety, my sanity! And today they are still so precious to me, so much so, as I sit here today I miss it so much it hurts.

God bless you ladies and the memories you’ve given me. I hope and pray that this Devine universe will one day give us all Sunday morning breakfast together once again!

xxx

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