Dear Alex....Hope is the key......

February 29^th 2012

Dear Alex,

Well after breaking up completely yesterday, the smell I told you to remind me about, yes, it was all over a smell. I found some incense sticks I had in my suitcase, brought back from France, and as I had not yet unpacked my case, and did this yesterday, I stumbled across them, and lit one.

It was a smell that reminded me of France; times we were together, happy times. Out of the blue, I was on my knees, sobbing, wailing into a cushion.

It was totally unprompted, and it shocked me that a smell could drag up such potent images of you and me as we were, of France and times together, times that were which I have just had to block in order to cope, carry on....and I just cried until I was nearly sick.

But from this, I realised my problem, I am struggling to ‘hope’. Looking to the future at the moment, I have so many hanging doubts, niggling Drs’ voices telling me you’ll never be the man I once knew, never recuperate more than you have. My problem is, that through the move, I have had to start again, without you. In a strange place, struggling to get done all that I have to, and doing it so alone. Family help out, babysit at times, but I have no real emotional support, as no one can do that, they cannot tell me it’ll ‘all be alright’ as no one knows, and at the end of the day, you were my shoulder to cry on, my support, my rock, the one and only one I ever turned to. And now I can’t. Hope has waned dramatically for me in the past few weeks. It is going to be difficult, but I have decided I just have to keep that, the hope I had in France, which kept me going, kept you going, I believe to a large extent brought you out of your coma, got you through. I CANNOT and must not give up hoping.

I resolved myself today and decided to hope, despite all I am going through, all the doubts, the anxieties, the fears, I HAVE to keep that hope alive and strong.

Being with you today as our nephew Bert and fiancée Emily babysat, we laugh, you laugh with a noise, you smile, you comb (well, try to) your own hair, and I make you wipe your own dribble up with your right hand. I make you do all I can for yourself, I push you to do it, telling you I’ve had it now, five months in bed is way too long, I never signed up for this, get a move on at getting better,  you whoos, I tell you and your smile back at me melts me. I am so in love with you, and I just have to have you back.

I know how long this takes, the weeks become months, which will become years, but I know the fight you have, and I cannot lose hope that one day I will be in your arms, in the same bed as you again. I won’t let the doubts overtake, I will fight them internally, and pray you come back to me.

That smell will one day, not make me cry, but as we smell it together in OUR bedroom again, it will make me smile, maybe cry with relief! But not weep through fear and loss and despair, grief.

This is the hardest thing I have ever had to do, the hardest thing you have ever had to do, the hardest thing the kids have ever had to do, and I promise them everyday, as I explain you may not be there in body and presence, but that the love you have always and will always have for them is so strong and alive, that it is inside them, helping them grow, keeping them strong, and making them believe Daddy will be back.

I have to do this for me too, despite.

Thank you for the amazing time we had tonight, and I will keep the hope alive, no matter how hard it may be at times when I see you in your current position

I love you my hero and ever strong in mind man,

Me xxxxxxxxxxxxx

Lola Grace, a BIG day!

Our big girl loses her first tooth.....showing proudly her lost tooth, and that's pen on her hand btw, not a malformed wart....in case you were wondering....

Something exciting to tell Daddy!

Well done BoBO!!!!

Man they grow up so fast...someone stop them!

Dear Alex, life without you....but pancakes nonetheless....

February 21^st 2012

Dear Alex,

What strange times we are living through at the moment. So many discoveries, so many challenges, and all in a foreign country. I know this is my ‘homeland’ but the fact we have moved 11 times, in the 10 years we have been together bears witness to the fact that we have never seen ourselves as having a real ‘home’. Except for the small, insignificant village of St Martin de Seignanx. Where we moved twice, as we had finally found somewhere for the long term, somewhere to grow some roots, set up home, gardening, animals, children happily bilingual at school, sharing in another culture, speaking another language, tackling life in a very different way.

The move back to England has hit me harder than I expected. It has been, for me, the hardest part of our journey so far. I feel like a real grown up! I have moved house and countries with 4 kids, and am trying hard to get the kids into a routine, keep them happy and stable, and tackle all the difficult things without their eyes seeing the depth of concern and feelings of loss in my own.

They are loving school, although Lola is very quiet, and cries sometimes at school as she is finding she is behind the others in terms of reading and writing in English, which knocks her confidence. She is very serious about her work, very applied, works hard, and was top of her class in France, so this is a difficult adaptation period for her. Mitzi is loving discovering the joys of arts and craft and music and assemblies being part of the curriculum in England, as is Monty, they are thriving. As is Lola, but I see it is harder for her.

Esmie follows me around all day, as I drag her around the meetings with the Citizen’s Advice Bureaux, various important phone calls, asking me when she is going to school, when her school starts, expecting every building we go into to be her new school. She looks up at me, my little gorgeous cheeks, with her back pack on her back and snack bag, never relinquishing them, asking every time we get in the car if we are going to her new school. So far, I have not found her a place in a nursery. Although I won’t be defeated!

I feel no rest bite, and like my life is rolling on from day to day visiting you with kids, with Esmie if I go during school hours, organising what we are going to do about the fact there is no bed for you in the re-education centre. This has been a huge challenge. I was told it could take months. I have thus decided to take it upon myself to train myself in some physiotherapy techniques to help you, with the aid of your cousin Mel who is a physio, and we have a meeting on Friday afternoon for this. I had a meeting with the speech therapist today to see what I can do to help you too, to move you in the right direction. It seems to be getting tongue strength, so I have suggested swabbing your mouth with different tastes, as for five months you have had ‘nil by mouth’ hanging above your head. You seem to love this, and love gritting down on the swab with your strong teeth playing. Enjoying taste sensations and wetting your mouth, which stays with out water or food, and I can only imagine your desperation for just some fluid in your mouth.

I am going to organise a family meeting to see who can go in, what days, and what each of us can do to aid your recovery.

What terrifies me is that the longer you stay being ‘unre-educated’ the harder and the slower the process will be. It is extremely important that the minute a patient in your condition can be re-educated, that they are, giving the brain stimulation from the word go, this has higher success rates for the future, so without despairing too much about future consequences, this has made me very low, as I see your arms re-retracting in the pose they were in ICU.

I can only do what I can do, but I am flat out with it all, and the kids, and the house!, and house hunting... It all rolls into one, I never seem to know what day it is, and I get woken many times in the night by Mitzi and Esmie, who are at the moment sharing a mattress on the floor as I await bunk beds to arrive in a few weeks. My nights are turbulent, plagued by nonsensical nightmares, my evenings grieving for your touch, your presence, your conversation.

I saw you today, and you woke in an hour and a half for just five minutes, you open your eyes, and look serene, feeling my love, and you nod as I ask you if you still love me, smiling, obviously still loving me. You are so happy to wake up to me being there, your gorgeous innocent look of pleasure at my presence lifts me.

Things are not as I would have expected here, and I do wonder if I have made a big mistake…after all, it may have been in French, but you were at least getting the re-education, crucial to you at this stage.

You are now on a general ward, which makes it very difficult for the visits with the kids.

But I remain positive, I have to. I have to see good things happening not far away, I wait patiently for them.

I wait patiently for you…I will have you one day, I know I will, I just wish I knew when…

I will be back in tomorrow with the kids after school, and I cannot wait to see you, it’s my very favourite time of day…

I love you more than I can ever express…

Me xxxxxxxxxxx

Getting back to the basics-routine.....

kids' first day at school, it went brilliantly, and they LOVE their new school and especially the uniform, which they never wore in France...how cute!

Here's to settling into English life....we miss you France xxxxx

Where we are now...thanks to all of you....

This is a little blog of thanks to ALL those who have helped us, the wood family, over the past few months. I wanted to thank all who have donated, making it possible to fly Alex back here, who is still in the John Radcliffe hospital, and desperately praying for a bed to become available, as they do not do very much with him in the hospital, and he NEEDS to be moved to the Oxford Centre for Enablement ASAP. But he’s in England, and surrounded by friends and family, and loving his visitors.

For all who have done sponsored events, to all who have donated £1, or more, everything has blessed us, and has achieved an amazing thing for this one family.

Thanks to all your prayers, your love, your thoughts, your encouragement, contact, everything, as all of this has been a backbone of support to me and the kids which has and is continuing to get us through this traumatic time.

The kids start their new school on Monday, and are TOO excited! So I am gradually getting them into a routine, and then I will follow, somehow!

I have never lived around this area before, and it’s a big culture shock, a huge change from our little village with my close knit amazing friends we made there. I miss them dreadfully, and at the moment am trying to look forward, but am still very sad about having to leave the place we’d decided to stay put.

But life was not be that way for us, and we have to go with what we have, the J.R. R Tolkien quote I often refer to is this:

Frodo: "I wish none of this had happened." Gandalf: "So do all who live to see such times, but that is not for them to decide. All we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given to us." 

And with this philosophy in mind, I put my armor on daily, and battle on through all the daily trials that seem to be hurled my way at the moment!

But with everything that everyone has done, down to the least of things, to me, my family, they are mountainous gestures, and have carried us.

Thank you for getting Alex back here, thank you for your continued support, and thank you in general, for everything, from all of us.

Lets watch this space, remain positive and hopeful and keep praying that one day, Alex Wood, my man, will be his old self once again…

                          *************THANK YOU**********

when we were first together....

Not a care in the world, just head over heels in love......

Now many, many seemingly impossible hurdles to cross, but still, if not more, head over heels in love .....

I love you Alex xxxxxx

Dear Alex, The return....

February 8^th 2012

Dear Alex,

The return…

You landed safe and sound February 2^nd 2012, accompanied by you dad. You have settled in well, and when I landed too late to see you on Saturday night with the kids, I was devastated knowing there would be yet another day’s wait till I could see you. Your sister Jo takes me in to see you and points at the room you’re in, I literally start sprinting down the corridor, and sobbing, throw myself at you, just kissing you and cuddling you telling you 'I’m here, look, we made it babes, we’ve done it, you and me, we're here know…’ we both cry and I rest my face against yours and you lift your hand up to put it on my head. It was such an overwhelmingly emotional moment, and I know I have made the right decision, with English speakers all around you, I am sure you will progress much better, as there is no language barrier. You brain will not have to make such an effort to comprehend, I know you’re much more relaxed.

As the plane took off from Biarritz airport, I held the kids' hands, tears were streaming down my face-this was it, the take off to our new life, unknown, scary, and without you by my side to help me though it. Monty looks at me and says, ‘it’s been good here in France, hasn’t it mummy?’ ‘yes it has sweetheart, it really has’ and I cannot force the tears back in, I just need to let them roll…my good friend Rachel had months ago coincidentally booked the same flight!! it was lovely to have her by my side, wiping up my tears and snot...She was a lovely comfort. (miss u guys :( )

I have busied myself finding a school for the kids, getting uniforms, getting paper work finished in France, and started in England, and as we came back with just our suitcases of clothes, and the white goods, we are low on everything else-we have brought back no toys, Monty’s star wars lego-he’s distraught, no barbies, no books, nothing to make or do. The kids are bored.

Although for me, I feel at rock bottom right now, claustrophobic, I do not know where I am, I want to go into hibernating mode and just be quiet and alone with our kids, let the dust settle for a bit, I feel shell shocked, the culture, the pace, the traffic, the area, I have no idea where I am. I am scared at night in the house on my own too, as I have only me. My family has helped running me around, getting in shopping etc, but I find myself on Monday morning down, staring out at the English sky, no mountainous views and feeling regrets and anger and resentment that we had to leave our dream. The thing is with me, despite all that is going on, and me wanting to keep a low profile-I have just spent five months being ‘the talk of the town’ and I found that very difficult to deal with, people not knowing me or my family, but making judgements, and knowing apparently all about me because of what had happened, I was feeling strangled.

Now I feel strangled here, I have no independence at the moment, although my sister and brother-in-law have leant me their car for a few days, I just do not know the area, and wish we were still in France…You and I baby, spent so long trying to set up what we did for the kids over there, and now we’ve had to come back.

But through all this, I keep holding onto one thing, I am never going to let this sink me, as the minute I became a mother, found you, honey, I swore to all our babies, as their tiny fingers grasped around my little finger, to always protect them, to do my best for them, to never let them come to harm, in every way I could. And right here, right now, with all that’s going on, I cannot keep it from them, but I can be the stable, constant, loving, smiling mummy they have always known-that, that I can do, and that does not need to change. Your loving wife, devoted to you, always hoping, and the mummy I always dreamed of being when I was little….

All the rest is just a distraction, obstacles thrown at you to try and drag you down, you just have to let them go through you, keep bobbing up and down, and use your faith as a buoyancy aid, the love of others, a safety ring. The more is thrown at me at the moment, I am thinking, well it won’t break me, because I am a mummy and I HAVE to do this for your, and the kids’ sakes, thus I find despite feeling low, tearful at times, confused, anxious, I always have the power to pick my self up again, and plough on.

It’s tough back here, I don’t know anyone, and having just left some beautiful friends, who have been there with me since the 4^th October 2011, I feel very alone. I can rationalise, and I know I’ll make friends, but, really at the moment, it’s not the time. I need the kids happy in their routine of school and activity clubs and making friends, then gradually the rest will fall into place.

What amazing friends-Friday helping me at the house, and handing over the keys, my real life angels...I'll never forget them...

I just miss you being you, miss ‘us’ the ‘us’ time we would have together, our chats, our cuddles, your constant affection, your laugh, your humour, you as my protector, confidant and love of my life. I guess when it gets down to it, I just miss family walks…

I have to just keep on believing that we will get this back one day, but this is all so long, it takes so long honey….

I am never quitting, never stopping the dream, you and me and the kids down at the beach, me in your arms once again, it’s all I want, thus all the other rubbish that I have to trawl through, the everyday irritating minor/major stresses I hose them off my back, because they are not going to stick there and niggle at me, I have you to think about, and your health is all I want.

I pray to be ‘a light for God, that you are healed, and to be a good mum’ that’s all I care about, and I will not let the rest break me.

I will battle on from my corner baby, I promise, I just wish it was still in France, our happy little life we’d set up there…but life’s not like that, and you have to deal with whatever it is that is thrown at you, if I don’t carry it all, no one will, and that is not going to happen, but you really could have bought me that donkey to share my load a bit!

I love you my man, we’re back, we have returned…let’s see where this path leads us to now, all we can do is wait, have faith, patience and perseverance, and one day, we’ll see…

I’ll see you tomorrow my angel,

Me xxxxxxxxxxx

Day four of move…

Summer 2010...Esmie Rose's godmother, one of my bestest mates x

I found out on Friday night (January 27^th) that England had a bed for Alex in the John Radcliffe Hospital, where he will initially be based for observations. Having to accept this date, as who knew when another would be available? I commenced moving the house with four kids and all the rest in one week procedures…

Here’s how it has been going:

Day four of move…

Mitzi ear infection, up all night, Lola, teacher on strike, no school, all slept on mattresses on floor in my room, including stinky dog (with 'WTF did u eat man?' guts) and 2 cats....camping Wood style...

Passport arrives (Thank God) flights are booked for Saturday 4^th February… 

The day got worse, I realised around 10 am how ill I was, two friends come round, (Vanessa and Jean) like a cross between Trojans and elves help me with ‘stuff’. They order me to leave and go sleep at a friends whilst they soldier on, ‘have you looked in a mirror, Tamsyn?’ being the reason. I resist, stagger on, then literally at 1 pm am manhandled out door, as cannot walk any more to Dr’s then friend’s bed. I have high temp and virus and feel like death.

Now? Really now? Like 4 days before I move? How is this possible?

Like angels, after school, Caro Lenier, Vanessa Moleres and Delphine Llamas come round and divide the kids amongst them, I am to have a whole night’s sleep, and wake up when I want!

Day Five of move,

Have woken up feeling MUCH better….let’s see what today brings….