Sixteen weeks today.
Sixteen weeks of rehabbing this Achilles. Sixteen weeks of exercises, wobbling, crutches, boots, and the slow, sometimes frustrating progress of learning to walk again properly.
Sixteen weeks of thinking, “Surely this is the easier part?”
And then realizing — yet again — that no, this is the hard few weeks.
And yes… I am tired.
Not sleepy tired, but that quiet, deep tired where your body feels like it’s been working overtime and deserves a small medal, or at least a cup of tea and a few quiet minutes.
This week, adding to the chaos and the joy, are my two favourite Aussies — my husband and my stepson, Matty,he is staying with us for the month. His energy, light-heartedness, and joy make the house feel brighter, warmer, and full of laughter.
And then, just to keep life interesting, they announce:
“We’re going to Portugal… for a game of golf.”
Yes. Portugal. For golf.
Flight leaves at 7:30am today, returning tomorrow morning at 10am.
A spontaneous 24-hour adventure.
And yes, they both wanted me to go with them.
Me. Limping legend. Heel-raise champion. Wobbly hero.
I had to smile. Because that’s who they are — full of life, always finding joy in little absurd adventures, and wanting to share it with me, even when my version of adventure is making it from the kitchen to the sofa without wobbling.
So my morning is spent doing my humble bit: dropping them at the airport, waving them off, and wishing them all the fun in the world.
Since I’m back driving, everyone now seems to think I’m a chauffeur without the hat. Honestly, if someone suddenly decided to visit the Giants Causeway in Antrim, I can already hear it:
“Oh, just ask Marie — she can drive now!”
And yes, apparently that’s all I can do. Nothing else. Just drive. Lift a bag? Plan a route? Navigate? Pfft — apparently, none of that matters. Just drive.
There’s something really lovely about it — the contrast between our adventures.
They’ll conquer Portugal in a day.
I’ll conquer another day of careful steps, exercises, and small wins at home.
Both journeys matter. Both journeys are worthy.
So here’s the picture:
Me: quietly celebrating every tiny improvement, every heel placed firmly on the ground.
Husband + Matty: soaking up Portuguese sunshine, golf clubs in hand, full of joy and laughter.
All of us: just doing our best in our own ways, humble, human, and happy.
Week 16: full of challenges, full of laughter, full of little victories, and full of love.
Sometimes the hard weeks feel endless, but when you share life with people who make you laugh, who include you in their little absurd adventures, and who remind you to celebrate even the tiniest wins — it all feels a little lighter.
