Last week my son brought me in a rose. He had given a red rose that I grew, to a friend's mom and asked for one of hers for me. My son is 19,almost 20. He brought it to me at work and held it out and I thought of the little boy who always brought me flowers. Now he asks before he picks them.

This was the week of chaos and confusion and letting childern grow into their own. Making their own mistakes. And being there to help pick up the pieces , which you knew were going to be massive.

I didnt have a camera till it was almost to far gone. But the sunshine it brought was like the light at the end of the tunnel. It gave me strength and hope. And it showed me that the bearer of the gift was still my little boy I loved. And we would get through this.