Dear Alex, a humbling day...

July 11^th 2012

Dear Alex,

Boy tears now fall, he’s thrashed, let out, blamed, slammed, now I’ve approached. I rest, he turns furiously away, voice hardly working, I can hear the anger, the grief in his throat. I try to reach out, console, my hand is whacked away. I stay; still, crossed legged, waiting. Taking his own time, trying not to push, just making sure he knows I am there. He gives in, it’s bubbled frantically over, he throws himself into me, ‘I miss my dad’. There, he’s said it, acknowledged. ‘So do I’ I whisper and cuddle my boy hard, and tears roll.

He now has his turn in my bed, mummy’s nest! He traces the patterns in the bed head, humming ‘paradise’ by Coldplay- possibly THE worst ever written song, sorry Coldplay, but there’s nothing significant about him humming ‘para para para para para para dise….’ My bed is certainly not. But he hums, and I listen, our boy soothed, and I write to you, Alex, as he does. Girls asleep, the day’s almost done.

Hail stones pound, shaking the ground awake. Our girls' summer dresses held up tight, socks, shoes scattered, the kids chase through the ankle high puddles, little bottoms bared, freedom, their feet find. Luckily other mums did not frown too hard, although I do not know it made them smile as broadly and laugh as loudly as me! 

You miss all this...

It’s been a disjointed day. You were asleep in your chair almost the whole time I was in, quiet. I did get a smile. I therefore spent the morning holding your hand, chatting to others, Esmie on my knee.

I ache now, shoulders, head. No you to give me a massage, or tell me to shut up whinging! Just, as usual, no you…

So many people are involved now, on board, trying to ‘make waves’ for you. If you knew how many have done things, how many people intend to. It’s astonishing; I am surprised regularly by the kindness of others. Just today, after an initial brief chance encounter, people who don’t know me, you, the kids, sit with me, planning, offering help, organising. Their energy, kindness, I cannot put into words. I am truly humbled by these guys*, and others who want to, and have, helped.

My head continues to pound, despite tablets, I am going to have to go.

Be awake tomorrow…I need you to talk to.

I miss you, more every day…

Me xxxxxxxxxxx

*(You guys know who you are and as I haven’t checked with you, I am putting no names up!)