We head off on leg one tonight. A prosaic and short flight so that I can go to a conference that I’ve shoehorned into this sliver of leave. It’s serendipitously Helen Taussig’s birthday today – an amazing woman who developed the field of medicine that segues into what gets me out of bed most days. Reading her story and that of Maude Abbott makes me happy to continue the tradition of women choosing alternate paths.
We packed last night after an early celebration for Bilby’s birthday and the bags by the door seem both crammed and quite small at the same time. I think it hit him for the first time what this might actually look like. My third child is quiet and introspective and bright and curious. But he is still only 14 (very nearly 15) and easily overshadowed by his siblings. I hope more than anything on this trip that we find our way.
More than either of his siblings it was taking him to birthday parties or showing up for school sports days that made me realise how hard it can be to have a Mum that is not always there. I don’t recall him ever complaining but I think in some ways that was worse. The quiet acceptance of the detritus of tornadoes.
Following the Gleam 
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