it’s coming home

I have never been a football fan, yes, I like it when Liverpool win, and shamefully rejoice when Manchester United lose, but really, I am not a fan.  However this year it is different.  For a start the World Cup has been on constantly in our house.  Hubby is thankfully recovering well from his surgery and enjoying convalescing in the Summer sun with footie as the soundtrack to his return to wellness.

This actually was quite annoying at first, until I noticed what was happening all around me.  Social media posts showing friends and their children watching the beautiful game and for once it seems England is winning. The smiles and laughter of the children, all of whom believe that their team can win, well it is quite magical. Then I watch the after match interviews, so much less stressful than actually watching a match and I notice that not only are they winning, they are doing it with good grace and humility, not to mention smart waistcoats.  Gone, it seems, are the egos, the big men who have always put me off the sport.  Those days it seems are done.  Now we have a team, no one more is important than another, and for that I thank them all.  Win or lose to showcase kindness,  team spirit and friendship on the world stage is impressive.  These guys are role models, and for once our children, girls and boys alike have people who are decent and honest to look up to.  No matter what happens next it has been worth it.

As the excitement of today’s match dwindles, and talk turns to the next one, this time a real chance to do something wonderful, I am thinking of another football team.  Young men and boys, passionate for their sport, together as a team on a day out.  A young manager, keen to give them fun experiences led them into a cave, two weeks ago, and they are still there today.  Thankfully brave rescuers have found them and are working hard to bring them home.  It is a tricky task, deep under ground with waters rising, this team literally are in peril.

So, as we hear our countrymen and women singing the Three Lions song, I will be hoping that another team on the other side of the world will soon be coming home, that parents and loved ones will be able to hug them and scold them and then, quietly get on with the rest of their lives.

Let’s all hope that Football really is coming home soon.


One thought on “it’s coming home

  1. Wishing your husband a full recovery. It’s time for the two of you now. I understand and empathize because we went through this in 2015 when we found unexpectedly that Geoff had the same heart condition that these young footballers have, who drop dead in the middle of a match . Then we found he had to wait 6 months for an essential test ! We paid and got one the following day. Then we found out that the specialist operation he needed could only be done in three places in Europe, one of them being Papworth Hospital in Cambridge. The op was scheduled, I booked accommodation, flights and car hire. We travelled to UK. He had an angiogram and they decided he needed a different op! Discharged and waited in the accommodation that had been booked for his recovery! Eventually, weeks later,we had to go back to Spain without the op being rescheduled but £3000 lighter!! At last the call came, a month later, they had got everyone together and had decided on the op that was needed. Off we went again by this time my elderly mother had had a fall and was ill in Clatterbridge so flights to Liverpool instead of Luton to pop in quickly to see her, then drive down to Cambridge and pop him into a hospital bed ready for his op the following day. The next day I walked unseeingly round the shops in Cambridge after kissing him goodbye. The hardest of farewells, so many words bubbled to my lips only to be held back by clenched teeth. I knew he felt the same. I had a rare back massage in a salon in Cambridge in an attempt to remove the iron band of tension from around my chest and back. Eventually the call came after a four and a half hour op, they had mended his poor heart. I was not going to see him in Critical Care with all the wires and the tubes, but needed to satisfy myself that he was alive. He made such good progress, Day 1 back in his room, Day 2 more tubes out, but on Day 3 he was hallucinating seeing wild animals out of the window and water cascading through his room and he looked delicate . He told me to go home and I went back to the rented house and sat and cried and cried. The worst day. Day 4 was better they had taken him off the meds that were causing the hallucinations and Day 7 he was discharged so we could drive up to Wallasey so we could live in my mum’s flat while he recuperated slowly slowly. 5 minutes round trip walks to start, breathing exercises, slowly starting to become the new man he was going to be while my mother’s life ebbed away in hospital. Daily visits to see her, feed her and making sure that Geoff took the right medication and didn’t overdo things. Completing the daily diary to send weekly to the rehab team amidst the shopping and the cooking and the driving.7 weeks later when we were ready and fit enough to fly home to Spain, we attended the funeral of my mother. Sad, but for her the right time. She would not have wanted to lose her independence which was inevitable . So I shed tears and we travelled back home to complete his healing. Three years later it is all a distant memory but when I read your blog it all came back to me and I read it to Geoff too. So glad for you both that he is fixed, now you can start to live life again and it is your turn for some good luck and happier times like walking on the beach hand in hand x

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