Letting it go

I have reached the age when the primary emotion on seeing the baking hot sun finally dip behind the trees is relief. I mean I like it hot as they say but my feet don't. They double in size and ideally need to be lifted to shoulder height for half an hour. I could name at least ten occasions when that would be less than ideal. 

There's a lot going on don't you think? I'm not so much thinking about politics - riveting though it is, obviously. I will just say this about the pile of piffle (Copyright Boris Johnson)  that is our esteemed Prime Minister's legacy. A good percentage of the people who are following on appear to be at least as bad. There seems to be a lot of talk about tax cuts (I would just like to ask - how do we pay for the ever-expanding NHS and how do we find the money to resuscitate an almost non-existent dentistry service? Or pay nurses, teachers, doctors etc. enough to make them want to stay)? Maybe we are looking at austerity again because it worked so well last time. This sarcastic edge may get me into trouble one day. I think the thinking may be that people are so knee-deep in the cost of living crisis that they may well not notice. Also, there seems to be talk of extending the deportation to Rwanda scheme. To whom? People who disagree with them? Ladies of a certain age? Dogs who bark a lot? 

Anyway, leaving politics to one side. I need to calm down because, in this weather, I am more prone to an attack of the vapours. We went to visit Aged Parent this weekend. She has been moved to a home where they are assessing her ability to live alone. (Spoiler - she can't and I have no idea how this decision will take up to 12 weeks). The place seems really nice although she could never stay there - it's a squillion pounds an hour. We found her in the garden. Miserable - but happy with that. Someone had given her a manicure and painted her nails bright purple. AP rather liked it but it was spooking the living daylights out of me. We were a bit concerned when we left as she looked a bit lost and this sometimes makes her a little bit let's say apprehensive (spelt "R-U-D-E). But when we rang up the next day, a carer said "Well, she is sitting here with me having an ice lolly in the garden and there is nothing happening that we don't know how to deal with." 

"So...it's ok, then?"

Carer - slightly puzzled. "Er. Yes?"

And the thing is, that maybe it is ok. At least for now. If it doesn't work, then we can deal with that later. And also, may I gently whisper that this may be an answer to prayer - a long-term, sometimes despairing request around the support Aged parent needs may have actually come to pass.  

It made me think about the story in Kings (read it here) where the people had been waiting for rain and after a lot of to-ing and fro-ing about whether God is top god, someone - who had been looking very hard -  spots a rain cloud - miles away - so far it only looks like a fist. It's the first sign and immediately Elijah behaves as if the answer was never in doubt. And my challenge now is that, if I screw up my eyes, I may be able to see that little cloud of hope and I need to be able to accept that change may be on the way.