So, Sly turned 15 this week. A cause for celebration one might think but for me it is always a bittersweet time.
I'm always torn between being totally elated that he's a year older and the fact that no one knows how his heart is going to end up. And let me stress that as far as we know his likkle ticker is doing brilliantly. His surgeries were corrective, leaving him with just very, very mild valve leakage. His cardio appointments are down to 1 every 2 years - yay! But no one knows what tomorrow brings do they? Hence the bittersweetness.
Sometimes I think it's just my silly brain going into overdrive, anxiety sits on my shoulders like a small child with tired little legs, all mardy from walking too far...
Actually I'm fairly certain it's my silly brain trying to see how hard it has to prod me before I break a little...
So, my Sly is now a 15 year old, with a fine moustache already adorning his top lip (that's them thar Indian genes!), his love for video games knows no bounds and he is going to make a fine young man with decent morals and general goodness abound.
And I'm going to try and remember to celebrate each year of his that passes and party like it's 1999...
Sly- you're well loved.
Silly brain- go away.
Top hat and cane- you are very probably Sly's bestest presents this year. xx
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