Dear Alex, if there are a few things I've learned...

July 9th 2012

Dear Alex,

Autumn scorched leaves in early July; Summer has not yet graced us with its warmth…

Yet I have found, through the bulging rain filled skies, divine scenes and promise... Clouds lined darkest grey, giving rise to lighter grey, strikes of white light penetrate with a sun striving to pierce the threats of rain.

It hasn’t (or has rarely!) succeeded. Occasional sun, but seemingly months of rain. Reflecting the tears I have shed, I think my tears alone have resulted in the final lifting of the hosepipe ban!

The frustrated gardener in me has finally got hold of pots, to grow my own take away garden. Always renting, I have never had the motivation to plant flowers, grow beautiful gardens in places I may move from. But now settling, feeling some ‘space’ some slowing, I plant and grow, and relish the buds developing.

You are so low when I visit today, feeling the cold of the food they put through the stomach peg, you hold onto me as the nurse does her duties. All the invasion, all the different people, having to try and compute and understand your surroundings, not being at home, waking up on a normal day with me and the kids, all be it at stupid o’clock…I think you’d chew your right arm off to have that instead.

So much to realise, understand, so slowly it happens as the neurons in your brain fight to find new pathways, fight to be revived and take on new life.

Regenerating dormant brain cells to find new pathways through and winding around damaged areas. It is truly incredible what the brain can do, given the right stimuli and time.

But this is just it, time…

Time, which races by, snatches years of lives, has children growing, moves us all on. And yet you, I, wait for rehabilitation, re-educating your brain. You start from scratch, the brain has never done this before!

If there are a few things I have learned from this, it’s patience, endurance, tolerance, re-shaping expectations, seeking hope where none can be found.

This is an excruciatingly painful phase, I believe you are aware now of your situation, you are aware of how you used to be, and have no idea what to expect. And honestly, no one can tell us. Which is why a consoling ‘don’t worry, babes, it’ll all be fine’ is not a truth.

All I can tell you is that we are together in this. I will never give up, and I know neither will you.

It’s just learning strength, finding more strength than you ever imagined possible. Love through one of the toughest strains that can be slung carelessly at someone; ‘here, deal with that one’.

No one can tell us how far you’ll get, but we just have to trust. Believe and fight. Forever maybe, but rather an eternity of that than to have lost you altogether…

Fight on my lion heart!

Me xxxxxxxx