Saturday, 12 January 2013

Thought for The Day #6


I hunt still for a home. I feel deflated today, tonight. I feel alone. One of those days I would just curl up into your arms as you let me nuzzle into you, for a cuddle and a 'Don't you worry my angel, I'll sort it all out'...

...Only you can't. 

I am the 'big strong' one now, the family head. The protector of the kids and you.

Sometimes, well, often, I need you to wrap me up and make me feel better, take it all away from me for a bit, to be my companion to share the load.

Only I don't know that you ever will again.






Wednesday, 9 January 2013

Dear Alex, Watching you grow...


Esmie was snapping photos and captured this! I love it...





January 9th 2013


Dear Alex,

Watching you grow, inch-by-inch (I don’t obviously mean physically!) is a privilege.

I never dreamed life could feel this incredible. With the opportunity to watch you everyday growing. It’s subtle, it’s not day-by-day or week-by-week even, the progress, but whispers of it prevail…

I have also noticed you ask after the kids a lot when they are not there. You know they exist and they aren’t there! This is amazing progress! To begin with you had no idea about Esmie. And weren’t really sure of names or sex or how many kids, if we had any at all. Now you ask where they are…

A day on my own with you today, mum’s picked up the kids from school. The sky is blue, the air fresh, vibrating with bird sound. I walk you into the gardens at the Care Home. There’s a ‘Sound garden’ we discover with giant organ pipes to bong and they resound with differing tones. We both enjoy making music together! And you say to me ‘we could get quite good at this, you and me!’ it takes me maybe 15 attempts to get exactly what you are saying (it’s still really unclear often your speech) and when I finally ‘get it’ you roll you eyes and say ‘Thank God!’ I collapse in laughter!

I feel as though I have never been so in love, so grateful I am you are still here, and the person you are now is amazing, there’s not a lot of memory from before. You tell me, when I ask, you don’t remember ever having been able to see. Also, you have no recollection of what it’s like to walk, or that you ever did.

I’m not sure where you are at. You’re progressing, yes, fast, no, but as I say, somewhat, a little, it’ll all add up...I decided to try and provoke memories in you, describe an event each time I see you. I gave you an account of Monty’s birth today! There was nothing, just ‘really?’ and ‘no way!’ from you, no penny dropping and ‘oh, yes!’ I’ll just have to keep persisting.

It was odd today, you told me you couldn’t picture what a tree looks like or a car, or colours, and you have no idea what the kids look like, when I describe them, you raise your eyebrows and again, just say ‘really?’

I’m ignoring how that makes me feel, at the moment I have too much going on to dwell on this, there’ll be time enough for me to feel about this what I really do, but now it’s finding a house! Getting you home with our family.

Alex you are remarkable. You have me, heart and soul, body,  mind and spirit. You have done since the first day we met, and will do for eternity.


Me xxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Monday, 7 January 2013

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

Sunday, 6 January 2013

In memory of Kerry (Multiplemummy) #PAPS



Thanks to my best blogging buddy sophie at Superamazingmum, she wanted to get back to the roots of blogging and spot the posts worth reading, telling other people about.

This week my post is by newmumonline.

It's an account of the thanksgiving service held for a fellow blogger and mummy who died just before Christmas after suffering the same thing Alex did, but lost her battle with it after 5 months, leaving 3 young children without their mummy.

It's rocked my world.

As it should do.

And it's made me realise that time and time again, what we have is not 'deserved' everything we have is given even the time we thrive on earth. I feel like leaping around and pinching myself every day at the moment, every morning saying 'I'm alive! Alex is STILL here, and I am here with four amazing kids, and I get to be alive and well and breathing to look after them...what a privilege...!'

It's made me realise that it is all, simply, so very simply, about gratitude. I am reminded of it over and over.

Kerry was 5 months down the line when she caught an infection and lost her time on this earth. no more time to be with her kids, bring them up, no more breath on this earth to nurture her kids...

In her memory, I have a stone which I now keep next to the computer, and each time I look at it, it will remind me not to mourn the tragedy and the loss of Alex as he was, but to look forward, to a new changed life, but one with him in it, in the kids' lives...

Please take a minute to find out about her and read the post (here) I have picked this week. Thanks.

Tamsyn x