Dear Alex, More of you.
25th February 2013
Dear Alex,
It seeps, floods, it challenges, it reaches and strengthens and soothes, it makes whole again. I knew it would, I knew you being here would be nothing but healing.
But it's the morning of the day you have to return, and my stomach has flipped.
Last night lying next to you on the sofa, I have a conversation with you that I never thought I would again. I had only hoped, prayed, clung on desperately, and tonight was the night! You look as though you're lost in thought after I have put the kids up to bed one-by-one. Each has had a story and sat between you and me. Monty refuses, he just wants to skip the story, he never 'skips his story': he curls up, cuddles and we alternate reading and he sighs and says 'oh, just one more page mum, please!' But tonight, he refuses one. He's so distant with you, never talks to you, is never around you, the girls love having you at home, they sit on your lap, read to you as you now cannot read to them. They draw you pictures and talk you through them, they make you practice your speech! They sit and they cuddle you. Only Monty, he doesn't, he can't.
You say to me after I ask you what you are thinking 'I can't stop thinking about Monty, does he like me?' and whilst I discuss this with you, you say 'I wish I was still the same as before'
This is the first time you have ever verbalised or acknowledged you know you are different.
Hearing this I fling my arms tight around you, you have started to cry and I tell you it doesn't matter, that it just doesn't matter. That yes you are different, no you're not the same as before, but the love you have for me, the kids, that's as powerful and strong and unchanged as ever, that that's all I care about! That your love for me keeps me going, keeps me strong and focused and able. I just repeat how proud of you I am and how you being different just doesn't matter!
And as I notice the date I realise it was exactly 11 years ago to the day that I drove 3 hours to be with you, to go out for a 'quick drink' and I never went home again! 4 days later we were engaged...
And baby I am so blessed and so lucky that I found the love I have in you. My heart, my soul, my being could never want for more. I love you, no matter how changed, different. You are slowly coming back, slowly gaining more of you. And yet I love you now, as you are, I've loved you when you couldn't show me you loved me, loved you through times you will never remember but yet are engrained on my soul.
A talk with our boy after you left saw big tears fill his hurting eyes. He just needed me reassuring him whatever he was going through was ok, that it didn't make me or you love him any less. I told him your love is no different than before, you can't show it, express it in the same way, but it's a power a force that is unbroken. I think he just needs time, reassurance and time. I speak to him of how scary I found it letting go of holding on to the belief I'd get you back exactly the same as before, as I wanted that so. And how scary it was and how lonely I felt and how torn and sad and splintered felt my heart. But that I realised I'd rather have you different, than not at all.
He needs patience and time, and he will come round. And how relieved this mummy's heart will be when I see our boy cuddle you, chat to you about his day. It'll come. Time.
I miss you sitting here now having 'sent you back' to the nursing home. It's not right, not natural to have you away, so far away when all we both need is to be together.
Thank you for the most amazing weekend.
Me xxxxxxxxxx
Dear Alex,
It seeps, floods, it challenges, it reaches and strengthens and soothes, it makes whole again. I knew it would, I knew you being here would be nothing but healing.
But it's the morning of the day you have to return, and my stomach has flipped.
Last night lying next to you on the sofa, I have a conversation with you that I never thought I would again. I had only hoped, prayed, clung on desperately, and tonight was the night! You look as though you're lost in thought after I have put the kids up to bed one-by-one. Each has had a story and sat between you and me. Monty refuses, he just wants to skip the story, he never 'skips his story': he curls up, cuddles and we alternate reading and he sighs and says 'oh, just one more page mum, please!' But tonight, he refuses one. He's so distant with you, never talks to you, is never around you, the girls love having you at home, they sit on your lap, read to you as you now cannot read to them. They draw you pictures and talk you through them, they make you practice your speech! They sit and they cuddle you. Only Monty, he doesn't, he can't.
You say to me after I ask you what you are thinking 'I can't stop thinking about Monty, does he like me?' and whilst I discuss this with you, you say 'I wish I was still the same as before'
This is the first time you have ever verbalised or acknowledged you know you are different.
Hearing this I fling my arms tight around you, you have started to cry and I tell you it doesn't matter, that it just doesn't matter. That yes you are different, no you're not the same as before, but the love you have for me, the kids, that's as powerful and strong and unchanged as ever, that that's all I care about! That your love for me keeps me going, keeps me strong and focused and able. I just repeat how proud of you I am and how you being different just doesn't matter!
And as I notice the date I realise it was exactly 11 years ago to the day that I drove 3 hours to be with you, to go out for a 'quick drink' and I never went home again! 4 days later we were engaged...
And baby I am so blessed and so lucky that I found the love I have in you. My heart, my soul, my being could never want for more. I love you, no matter how changed, different. You are slowly coming back, slowly gaining more of you. And yet I love you now, as you are, I've loved you when you couldn't show me you loved me, loved you through times you will never remember but yet are engrained on my soul.
A talk with our boy after you left saw big tears fill his hurting eyes. He just needed me reassuring him whatever he was going through was ok, that it didn't make me or you love him any less. I told him your love is no different than before, you can't show it, express it in the same way, but it's a power a force that is unbroken. I think he just needs time, reassurance and time. I speak to him of how scary I found it letting go of holding on to the belief I'd get you back exactly the same as before, as I wanted that so. And how scary it was and how lonely I felt and how torn and sad and splintered felt my heart. But that I realised I'd rather have you different, than not at all.
He needs patience and time, and he will come round. And how relieved this mummy's heart will be when I see our boy cuddle you, chat to you about his day. It'll come. Time.
I miss you sitting here now having 'sent you back' to the nursing home. It's not right, not natural to have you away, so far away when all we both need is to be together.
Thank you for the most amazing weekend.
Me xxxxxxxxxx
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