|Mitzi moo, missing her daddy lots at the moment...|
17th November 2012
Fruit tea in a pot, glass cup, screen and keyboard. Candles lit, four children sleep, hair still wet from bath. This time of year, so dark, always night! Yet for us, there’s the sense that this is the lying down of something, shedding of the old, sad, lost, but a new journey together, a new family set up. And only we will know what it will mean for us to be family, to be together again, so long separated, so long our lives ripped apart.
Hydrotherapy is starting for you next week! I am taking you, because I have a car now I can take you in. An amazing thing happened just a few weeks ago. Somebody, who I do not know, who wanted to remain anonymous, donated enough money to buy us a new car that we can all get into. It was delivered Thursday night. I had been praying for a car, somehow to be able to acquire one (I had NO idea how!) And before I had to do the hour long drives to where you have been moved to, A nursing home in Amersham. I got it Thursday night! Not a second too early, a second too late, just perfect timing. It’s incredible. How can that be?? Someone did that for us, and the timing, just amazing, Most High timing.
We don’t need things before we need them, do we?! And it’s about trusting there’s a plan, a purpose, even when we cannot see. I have decided not to get distressed, torn up, by the fact there is NO house, but trust that somehow the Most High will hear, listen, provide, I have the car to prove He hears! You are ready to be at home, poison darts sent firing into my heart each time I am with you at the moment you ask to come home with me…"Not yet, my angel, but soon... trust me” I have to say.
I am moving the dining table and chairs into the garage, and a hospital bed should be arriving next week. At least this way you can have an overnight stay.
The move has gone well to the nursing home, you seem unperturbed for the moment. Funnily enough it’s our little Mitzi moo who is the most unsettled. She hates leaving you, she cries and says how much she wants you home. She lingers in the door way after giving you a kiss and a cuddle, watching you to check you're not upset we are going. She runs to inform the staff we are leaving, “please can you check on Daddy because we have to go now?” she requests. Her bottom lip quivers, big fat sad tears of missing her daddy, no matter how you are now, you’re her daddy and she wants you home, roll down rounded red cheeks.
We will get you home my angel. We need to get on with our lives as a family unit now. Very different it will be, but a new venture we all need to be a part of.
…Oh to have you home…