|Back in France...|
* I have to thank everyone here for /everything EVERYONE has done, I have been quite simply blown away by the kindness, love, prayer and support we have received in this time, and I thank you all from the very bottom of our hearts*
2nd April 2012
Six months ago today…
Clouds meringuing the sky, not even the street-light distracts the beauty of this tonight. My favourite tree, blossoming white snow, sheds its bloom to the ground, waiting for fruits to bear life. Knowing innately that despite losing its beauty, a new beauty will form from it's loss...A crow’s call, its noisy landing pulls my eyes towards the willow tree, pale, soft green, weeping towards the earth- nature speaks volumes about life, reading it has become a part of my daily routine. Watching the birds, hearing their song, noticing vast patterns in the sky, the world of nature, speaking to us of God…
Emotions have been running high with you of late, your drive to de-prison yourself from your own body. Whilst out with the kids, you start to cry, I am able to keep strong for you, as I believe, I have (almost) unfaltering hope that this is not it.
It is what it is, at the moment, but my strength comes from the hope that it is not for always. It is just long. So very, very drawn out, hard, and long. No one can give us dates, times, goals. We have to persevere with ultimate patience, and hope, have faith. I tell you as I wipe your tears that I have written to you a letter, everyday since the 4th October, because one day, I believe that you will be able to read these letters. We will be able to share in the heartache of what we have been through, and the joy of where we will be then, on the day you read the letters…
How we both long for this day. Not knowing if it will come, when. Told it will never be, but desperately digging heels into hope and that our love, God’s love, will help us fight. One day, you will be you, once again.
Even today, baby, you did something new, something incredible, although so apparently tiny. As I tell you to scold the kids for being to rowdy (!) you open your mouth. Open it! And on command. The kids put their fingers near it, and you snap gently your teeth together, playing with them. This biting movement is new, Alex, and so vital, I don’t think you have any idea. The kids revel in playing with their dad, such bliss in such simplicity. Such ultimate joy in a tiny movement, but that holds myriad fold detail. Laughter fills the mild air on the nearly sixth month date since your accident, nearly six months since I last heard a word from your lips, since you could see, walk, touch, run, surf. The giggles and laughs are extra-ordinary, the happiest laughs, most whole hearted, fulfilling laughs as your wife and the mother of our kids, I could ever have hoped to hear six months ago. A moment etched on my maternal and devoted wife’s soul…
The journey I have been on through what has happened to you has changed me irreparably. And in an astoundingly positive way. Searching, and finding joy, gratification in the least of movements, scenes, spoken/unspoken words. In gestures grand or insignificant, I drink it all in. I have learned to trust implicitly in the Most High, to depths I never thought possible.
The kids have struggled, prevailed, wept and laughed, and their growth, acceptance, charm, inner beauty has been taken to limits not all see, let alone can imagine.
Six whole long, aching months this has been. I have grieved every minute of everyday, missing you so much it hurts internally and externally. My time of happiness, is being next to you. My peace; being at your side. Had this been a predicted chapter in our lives, we’d have refused it point blank, preferring to live just the way we were (well, maybe a few changes!), but the unpredictable is the only predictable aspect of life. Our kids have learned that young. They have learned to adapt, young, appreciate things wholly, young, and hope and pray.
Our combined strength, our trust in the Most High, the already seen constructive, positive elements this has brought in these short, long six months is mind blowing.
Our mission, is to keep persevering, keep trialling through. When I look back to six months ago today, things were very, very different, very, very bleak, and your life is what I prayed fervently for. You still have your life, drive, imprisoned as you may be.
My message, six months on, is; lets keep doing this, baby, you and me, the family, our kids, lets keep battling, keep hope, faith, keep on believing that one day, Alex Wood, you will be Alex Wood once more, and we shall see what the next six months holds...
Your devoted, adoring wife,