Thursday, 19 July 2012

Dear Alex, home again...






July 19th 2012

Dear Alex,

Clouds enveloping, folding ever higher, reaching over the earth. Ever changing, adaptable, flowing. This morning has been unexpected. As usual, I am not able to digest the news or do anything with it, feel the emotions that are about to cascade…I have to box it up, cuddle Esmie and carry on.

My sister came over to see you and look after Esmie whilst I have our 6-weekly Goal planning Meeting. They are full of encouragement, and we discuss the way forward over the next 6 weeks, when we will all meet again, all your therapists and us, to discuss discharge and ‘where you will go’. Which doesn’t look as if you’ll be home in a year, 2 years, it’s more like a two year placement somewhere, after the (nearly) one you will have been away already. Three years, Alex. Three long, long years, and you will be in re-education, which is amazing-you will no doubt make huge progress, and be not needing of the 24/7 care side of things from me after this…But I find myself working out the age the kids will be when you will finally be able to move home and receive therapies as an outpatient. Monty will be 10, Lola 9, Mitzi 8 and Esmie 6…

It resounds like a drum beat in the pits of my aching soul…

I have a rare afternoon of quiet, cuddles, chasing, tickles, bike rides with Esmie. It’s our last afternoon to do this, she’s off to school next school year. I try hard not to feel overwhelmed at the idea of this, at the thought that I am not there as I should be either for the kids, or for you. Guilt scratches away internally, whispering coldly I am not doing enough, there’s more I should be doing, it tells me everyone is losing out in someway or another…

I now sit here, having downed left over pasta, braided hair all afternoon for roughly 8 girls I had round (a couple of mums for moral support too!) one who braided and learned on the spot, the other who did the tea runs!

I know the plan is for the best, the well fare of everyone, but I feel you’ve been away 10 months long enough. Now 2 and a half more long years to be single…bringing up the kids without you having your input. How will it affect them? How can I make it OK for them? How will they ever be OK with just me bringing them up, them knowing daddy’s still in hospital…

It takes time to adjust. But I don’t have time! Do I even have the strength?

I am told ‘this is not a sprint’ and I still am incapable of taking that on board. It has to be, can’t it be over yet? Please??!

I busy myself, organising fundraisers, planning your nutrition, helping achieve your goals (at least I like to think I help!)…adoring you, adoring the little precious four souls that keep my mind focused, keep me advancing…

Sadness just engulfs me tonight.

I have to, again, refocus, adapt, positive cap on and think of the ‘positives’ in this plan.

Tomorrow I know it’s another day, an amazing one at that, I am not coming in to see you in hospital, I am sitting here, waiting for you to come to me!! Yes, your first homevisit! I’ve pushed furniture out of the way so you can get in, it’s all set…the kids will be at school, so it’ll be you and me (and the OT and the physio). But your first trip home! I am overwhelmed with pride and excitement. My man, visiting me at home!

What an occasion, what a privilege…

So I will push thoughts towards the good and the immediate, and push aside thoughts that drag me back.

Tomorrow, it will be a good day…

I cannot wait my angel…

See you here, tomorrow morning, we have a date!

Me xxxxxxxxxxxx

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