Sunday was a perfect day.  The sun was shining (which doesn’t seem to happen often) and everyone was round for a Sunday lunch at my parents.

There was the hustle and bustle as usual over lunch, with 9 or 10 of us round the table with the usual banter.

My brother, the only person who was missing, was on speaker phone, still demanding his chocolate cake and chocolate custard.

My sister and I got uncontrollable giggles. We had to separate ourselves to try and calm down.  The fact that nobody else got it made it worse.  Just when we thought we had it under control, we met over the tissue box as we had both been crying from laughing so hard we needed to blow our noses. That just set us off all over again.

My dad – trying to watch the tv over the noise – managing to block out everything so that we had to shout his name 5 times before he realised we were talking to him.

My mum explaining to the french student we’re not always like this (we are).

And the kids going up and down ladders, in and out of tyres (don’t ask). You name it they were doing it.

It was again, on this perfect day, that the bitter sweet feelings crept in.  I want a child to share in this kind of love. To run around with their cousins, get into mischief, have Grandma sneak them cake and chocolate and to be surrounded by a loving family.

I also wonder how parents do it.  I have such overwhelming love for my nephews – complete and unconditional.  How do you cope with feelings even stronger than that for your own?!?! It baffles me and entices me all the more.

Hopefully one day I’ll find out the answer.

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