The Day After

I down a massive breakfast this morning.  How do I feel the day after the night before? How do I feel  in my hotel overlooking the square in this picturesque city  drinking  a smooth coffee at 10am as the crisp Scandinavian  light skims through the window?  My mind drifts.  But how do I feel?

Last week I was guest speaker  at an awards ceremony with a lord mayor. Theawards were for young people in care.  “ for Sadie who has passed all her exams” read the head of social services through the PA and up walked Sadie with a frown upon her face through the tables and to the stage where the Lord Mayor stood with Mayoress  in all their golden chained  regalia. He  leaned forward and passed her award and thenturned with the child for a photo shoot. She smiled. It was an emotional experiencee for me.

These awards were to acknowledge their  success. When I stood up as guest speaker  I said “I have done alot of things that could be seen as “success”’ Then I listed some of them  “..meeting royalty...poems on hit records... travelling the world.. beautiful hotels...”I continued (knowing how tossy that list could sound... “ there is not a day in adult my life that I aam not reminded of being a child who was brought  up for seventeen years, inchildrens homes. Success to me is to have found the ability to look in the mirror in the morning,  smile and say you’re alright.. it wasn’t your fault.”.

 How do I feel  this morning -  I feel good. The same taxi driver waits to take me back to the airport in Stockholm

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