Sunday, 25 November 2012

Dear Alex, A Hidden Treasure...

Alex at Tarnos, France...



November 25th 2012

Dear Alex,

In your presence, I am me, I am yours. In your presence I am one again, whole again. It’s you, and only you who has ever made me, me. Sometimes realising how different things are now makes me rock, reel in shock, it hits me still so hard. But the swings of the gong are less frequent.

Four heads, tired out, read out, laughed out, run about and eaten out, sleep. Some snore a little dreaming of the day they’ve had. Tucked up and knowing their safety. It must be great being a child, knowing you’re safe every night, having someone to tuck you in, read to you, sing to you (or may be not?!) and turn out the after prayers light.

I don’t know how I managed it, but I put a play list of music on. It ran through randomly all the soundtracks on the computer. Your voice comes on, chatting with the kids, laughing in the car, recording a silly anecdote on the phone it must have been. A little sound treasure. Like a jewel, sparkling and buried, unearthed and longed for. I hear your voice- I had forgotten how it sounded before. I heard you…I shall treasure that little 45 second voice jewel…

Sunday, the day I do not come in. I have to bear through missing you, not being with you. But it does the kids good, and I suppose not having to be somewhere for just one day a week must do me some good. The funny thing is, I’m not sure it does. People say it wouldn’t matter if I didn’t go in so much, I should think about having a day off, but to be honest, I am not doing it to be a martyr, there’s just such a need to be with you, that it’s harder to think of not being there…

This week, who knows what it will bring?

I will be there with you tomorrow, after the school drop off and hour commute…it’s long, but at least I get to listen to French radio. A little silver lining on a dark long commute to see you cloud…


I love you Alex Wood,


Your wife, me xxxxxxxxxxxxxx

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