Dear Alex, Memories

Dear Alex,

Memories, not many, but subtle, small and few, all of them precious, they are our memories of you. of their dad, of times we all shared together in health, a different time, a different life, a very different togetherness. 

Memories of theirs, they float, they add layers and depth to our soul, our family history, to their young lives.

Memories of theirs that float away as we talk in the car on the way home from seeing you. They wear them, although they do not realise this as protective coats around their inner beings, keeping them warm as they grow. Those memories nourish them, there is no need to be afraid of them. Even the fact that Mitzi says she wishes you were like you were before. At least it means she remembers you as you were...And that with time, as you keep progressing she will see more of you, more of her daddy return to grab her and cuddle her, talk to her and interact. 

And oh how I long for these days...How we all do.

Your constant questioning, the one you are stuck on this week "How long till I am home?" Each time I tell you with love and eagerness and patience. Each time you react as if it's the first time you have heard the news. "And where are we moving to?" Although by the end of the 5 hours we are there, you seem less surprised, regardless of the fact you ask the same question, maybe it is sinking in?

I look at you, feel for you, can not believe that come the 4th September you and I will sleep in the same room- I will have a mattress on the floor until we get a dual bed as they are called...But that's good enough for me, I will be within arms reach!

Things are falling slowly into place cog by cog, the challenges are being worked through methodically and I feel more in control now.

Memories evoke vivid dreams for me at the moment about people I used to know, long times ago...

Memories the kids fished out and talked about in the car today- swimming all together and sleeping over at our friends' house in France. You bribing Monty to swim as he lacked confidence, promising him 10€ if he swam the length! Monty laughs, a happy healing, whole memory of you. I love hearing them discuss these. Treasuring each word, each memory, reassuring them we were heading for better times. That you will keep progressing, that inside you are no different- it is your shell that is different, but you love them equally as you did when your shell was working and running and playing light sabre battles in the garden.

Memories my angel of times gone. 

Now we build new memories, the kids become, we reform too, who we are and who we are becoming.

Memories of ours of those times are our treasures, rich, to fuel where we need to get to.

I love you ...

me xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx