Friday, 20 September 2013

Dear Alex, One step closer...










Dear Alex,

To nearly fall, to grapple, to hold on by the skin under my nails, to feel defeated...almost.

To wonder, to wander, to feel starved of you, of any hope.

To reach through blizzards of emotions, no sleep, no love, no energy, trying to keep a smile and an even keel in the face of numerous strangers walking in and through and out of our home, because we couldn't do this without them, for the sake of our four healing, cherished souls...

Last week was hell.

No more, no less.

I had thought initially when the operation to replace the bone flap in your skull was booked for the 17th September, that there could not have been a worse timing...Only it turns out it could not have been better timed, and I praise the Most High, for again, knowing best and placing the operation for when it was.

We went up on Monday, my brother-in-law came to look after the kids here (poorly son of theirs meant my sister couldn't come too) and amazingly he managed for 4 days all our kids alone! The operation was scheduled for the nest day. I leave you late Monday night and crash through the door of my best friend who is scared to find me in the state she did. Pale, staggering, puffy, red eyed-tear stained and hopeless.

This week has meant recuperation for me. I slept hours and hours at hers each night, going to see you for the day, arriving back at hers late each evening for a funny film to 'force the smiles'! And friendship and a warm bed and rest.

Last week, is already gone. Next week arrives, with you coming home with your mum and dad on Monday. I get the weekend with our kids and as the weather is set to be good, I plan to be on the beach, revelling in the beauty and glorious nature of where we live. Sea air, kids who never fail to make me laugh, make me cross, make me feel that never has there ever been a love so strong- that of a mother for their child...

Because where we are is home, and I love where we live, not a better environment could there be for healing and growing for all of us.


One step closer...The operation has seen improvements already, in your speech, your face is once again symmetrical, it is incredible-yuor face is exactly the same as before, no more paralysis on the left -hand -side it is as it was before.

I have managed to reharness hope, that this is early days, that we will achieve SO much more than already we have...


One step closer my angel...





me xxxxxxxxxxxxx

Dear Alex, You...A song

On my way back form the hospital just after your operation, I hear a song I have never heard before, the lyrics struck me so- I have put them up here...And added the song at the above, it is a beautiful song, and it is from me to you...




Heart beats fast
Colors and promises
How to be brave?
How can I love when I'm afraid to fall
But watching you stand alone?
All of my doubt suddenly goes away somehow

One step closer

[Chorus:]
I have died everyday waiting for you
Darling don't be afraid I have loved you
For a thousand years
I'll love you for a thousand more

Time stands still
Beauty in all she is
I will be brave
I will not let anything take away
What's standing in front of me
Every breath
Every hour has come to this

One step closer

[Chorus:]
I have died everyday waiting for you
Darling don't be afraid I have loved you
For a thousand years
I'll love you for a thousand more

And all along I believed I would find you
Time has brought your heart to me
I have loved you for a thousand years
I'll love you for a thousand more

One step closer
One step closer

[Chorus:]
I have died everyday waiting for you
Darling don't be afraid I have loved you
For a thousand years
I'll love you for a thousand more

And all along I believed I would find you
Time has brought your heart to me
I have loved you for a thousand years
I'll love you for a thousand more




Tuesday, 17 September 2013

Dear Alex, The Operation.

17th September 2013






Dear Alex,


Standing by you, holding your hand as the drip goes in and you drift off to sleep as the anaesthetic enters your body. My body gives way, I faint, and have to be taken on a stretcher to the recovery room for and hour.

It is a busy room, people being wheeled and and out, being brought round from their operations, names being called. I feel a fraud and insist I am fine, apologising over and over. I wait back up in your hospital room for a while, then realise that with a four hour wait, I may as well go and see my friend. I just doze on her sofa, as she covers me with blankets, feeds me honey on toast and rooibos tea. I am looked after and puffy eyed, have never felt so drained, scared and tired.

The call comes and with heart in my mouth, I hear you are fine, the operation was a success, you are now to be monitored so your body does not reject the implant, the piece of bone that has been made up and replaced the bone which was removed in your first emergency operation almost 2 years ago to the day. As I walk in the room to see you, my legs give way again, I am so overcome. You lie there with drips, a tube to drain the blood from where they have opened up the old scar and replaced the bone. It is reminiscent of the eeriness that surrounded visiting you when you were in a coma. I put the faint feelings down to the fact I have a great deal of memories buried deep which arise as I see you so vulnerable, so peaceful.

I am not writing much at all, I am, honestly, emotionally and physically exhausted, I have never found any part on this path harder.

I spend the days, then the nights and evenings trying to settle you, reassure, going over the same questions, same demands. Finally, if I am lucky you sleep around 1am. But only to be up and awake at 4am. Fortunately my in laws have been around for the last week to help. You respond so well to them at times, and it is a comfort knowing I am not alone 'dealing' with you.

So I plough on, not knowing the end result, praying this operation performs a miracle. That in regulating and normalising the brain fluid around the brain, the body and brain will be functioning on a more even keel.

I wish you knew, I wish I felt loved by you, you are so trapped in your world, there is no thought for me and how your demands wear me down. That you say 'I love you' over and over, but it is just something you say, not something I see you feeling. I need you to be able to think of me. I want you to consider me.

Oh baby, please try.

I know none of this is your fault, I know how much you need me and my constant reassurance, but I am spent.

I need a bit of you...Just a thought every so often, because you do not understand that at 4 am, when you wake the kids, when I have to get up and try and calm you, reassure you after not sleeping, you have no idea how hard this is for me...


I am here for you, I need you more tan anything to be there for me too.


See you in the morning, I hope you rest well tonight.




me xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx