Sometimes it takes a very big shake to wake you from a very deep sleep. About five years ago, almost everything in my life went pear. And I’m talking major disaster of the heart-ripping, long-sobs-in-the-car-while-you-contemplate-suicide type fruit here. While my life was going into meltdown and I was taking a cosmic kicking, something really extraordinary happened. After all, the universe never takes away without giving something back…
My sister fell pregnant unexpectedly, and when the tadpole – a.k.a. my nephew – was born, she asked me if I would be his godmother. That probably doesn’t seem extraordinary to people who have kids, but to me it was huge. The first moment I held him in my arms, I knew my life would never ever be the same again. As Nancy Mitford so elegantly described it in The Pursuit of Love:
‘She was filled with a strange, wild, unfamiliar happiness, and knew that this was love’
At that point, I decided that I could either be a warning or an example. I chose the latter. I’m so glad I did. Four years on, and the tadpole has brought love and lightness to my life. He is a hilarious character and the nearest I will ever get to having my own children. This blog is for him, and for godmothers everywhere.