Christmas and Sick Days
Nothing makes me miss home more than Christmas and sick days.
I’ve been rather poorly the past five days and being home alone, very far away from my family has made it all the worse. When I lived at home, my parents always made it a point that I needed to clean up after myself and do whatever needed doing by myself. However, whenever I was sick I was back to being their little girl, who had cups of tea brought to her in bed, hourly check ups, kisses on her forehead and got tucked in properly at bedtime.
Aside from all the mushy love stuff, which makes being sick that little bit more bearable, my family are also very practical; they own thermometers and make suggestions such as, “Go see a doctor.” Apparently, I think of neither of these when I am on my own. The only way I was able to tell I had a fever was by my interchanging shivering and sweating spells throughout the night, and I didn’t even think of seeing a doctor until my sister convinced me that it actually sounded like I was pretty sick.
As I wheezed my way up the stairs to bed the last few nights, I particularly missed all the above. Independence is great but sometimes all you really need is to hear, “I love you,” and, “Goodnight sweetheart” from the most important people in the world. Texts just aren’t the same, unfortunately.
Mum, Dad, Sarah – I love you very much!