Dear Alex, Old friends...
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| Alex and Nick give their best man speech for Jamie... |
November 5th
2012.
Dear Alex,
Sitting in the warmth
of the bedroom, candles flicker and flail, four children’s hearts beat, four
mouths open, breathe, bodies rising slightly and falling. We all sleep in the
one bedroom these days. One in my bed, I’ve moved my bed into a room with bunk
beds in, two in the bottom bunk, one in the top. It’s partly me, it’s partly
them, but we sleep better together and now camping together in the one room. It
makes the night shift easier-in fact it’s now almost a thing of the past, they
sleep, all of them, almost all the way through, most nights. Esmie has even
slept in her bed alone twice the whole night through, since you had your
accident, she hasn't been able to sleep in her own bed.
One of your best
friends has been over from France for a brief visit and spending time with you , me and the kids. Having known him as long as I have known you, you having
known him as long as you can remember, there was something about him visiting
that brought an energy vast, and a love deep , brimming with brotherhood, friendship and
missing.
The kids haven’t seen
their ‘uncle’ for 8 months since we left France, and he’s always been a major
part in their lives. It was familiar and it was well, like seeing an old friend
you haven’t seen in a long time.
It makes me think of
the ways in which I can speak to your spirit-those times you have guarded deep
within, the smells the memories, the familiarity of your friends. I plan how I will
take us all to France on holiday to see people, feel sights, get in the water,
feel sand beneath your toes. Those things you once did everyday, the place we
lived and nurtured our family together.
I feel how much you
need people, friends, family, and, well, honestly- you need to be home. You need
that now. Yes, still many therapies, but with the comfort of knowing you get to
come home after them. Be part of the family again. Surrounded by the bustle,
the energy, the bickering, the snatching, the 'MUUUUMM! will you wipe my bum?' and the ‘just get out of the door for school!’
moments.
I will find a way,
somehow…to get you home.
Forever yours,
Me xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
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