Dear Alex, The day I didn't see you...

January 5th 2013

Dear Alex,

Sunday, after 10 months coming in every day to see you (in the beginning few months twice a day) I made the painful decision that one day a week I'd not come in. Many reasons, one everyone was urging me to 'at least have one day off' but that I couldn't listen to. For me, not seeing you is harder than being there with you, holding your hand everyday. What swung it for me was the kids. School 5 days a week and all weekend spent in hospital bored and stuck indoors, I felt it wasn't fair on them. They needed at least one day of 'mummy being all theirs' of a day to do with what we please. So I made the decision for them.

The day I don't see you I am stretched. I feel a million miles apart from you. I am distracted.

It's the day I dread in one respect. It's the day I love too. A day with just me and the kids, to be together. Whether I'm tired, wrung dry or more rested and smiley mummy, we love the day.

Today I didn't see you, today's the hardest day.

Friday night I did a 'date night' with you! I brought in an Indian takeaway and mushed up, we had our first takeaway together! And in the hours I am there I see more of you than I have done since the accident. I wrote the other day physically there seems to be no progress, speech wise, similar, but what I heard you say tonight was the strength of your spirit breathing into your broken body and soul...

It pulsates, it's breath like a fine mist gradually watering the brokenness of your mind and body...

You tell me you are 'an idiot, because I can't do anything for myself'

You tell me you are 'sorry for everything'

You tell me the name of our friends' baby born 6 days ago, it's been a surprise to you everyday I have told you for 6 days, tonight, you tell me his name...

you are realising things, more aware of the situation. It's not big blinking lights infront of you telling you what's gone on and where you are and so on, it's inch by inch healing of the mind... Subtle, but hugely significant.

I start this week feeling so encouraged by our Friday night, by where you are now, hope still bedding my thoughts. But it becomes all the more painful and urgent ( if that's even possible) to get you home... Us a family home ...

I pray for that...

See you tomorrow my incredible, strong man...

Me xxxxxxxxxxx