4th March 2013
Backing out through the gate, too tight, there's no room for error, I bend, lift the chair up with a heave over the ledge, then continue the reverse down the alley between our house and the terrace nextdoor. You suddenly reach out, reach for the me you can't see and repeat 'I love you, I love you, I love you' and I can barely understand the words through your heaving tears.
You know you're going back, there's a million words, unable though you are to speak them, behind your 'I love you'. I see that.
And I ask you to be strong, as the taxi driver pushes you up the ramps into the vehicle to take you back. I ask you to be strong because I have to hold it together for you and the kids, Esmie starts to cry 'I want my daddy home, I don't want him to go away again'. It's confusing for her, how can she understand you going away when she, in her little 4-year-old head, just needs her daddy at home, she doesn't see why you can't be!
And you're in the taxi and you haven't stopped, you cry and cry and howl with tears. With Esmie looking through the taxi door in tears, knowing I have to send you back, the taxi driver watching on as I cuddle you and wipe your tears, my heart it pounds so hard in my chest so tight, I just can't hold it in and I break and cry and just cannot stop.
But the kids are around, and I desperately want to be strong for you and for them.
I watch the taxi pull away, cuddle the kids tight and tell them although I'm sad and crying, it helps to cry and dad is well looked after where he is and he will be back very, very soon. Lame attempts to quell their fears and worries. I certainly don't quell mine.
It's been a difficult weekend, it feels intrusive (as wonderful as the carers are) with another person in the house all the time. Monty is having a difficult time, I feel like he feels he has just lost his dad, and my heart aches, just aches for him. There's no room in the house, the whole of downstairs being taken up with your equipment, 3 adults, 4 kids there's just no space to move! It makes me feel claustrophobic, but I can't get out, well, not easily, it's too much of an effort, such hard work and when I have one of the kids or another waking me several times in the night and the extra washing with you there (sheets and clothes) extra cooking extra cleaning... I've no energy to get out.
I know, at least I have you home, I really am not saying that, it's just different and there's so much more to deal with than I ever thought.
I'm having a week off from trying to resolve the unresolvable, a week off from frantically trying to find a solution to the house. It's sending me over the edge, too much, too unending, too fraught, I need to put myself back just thinking about the kids and you for a while, they need me not to be so distracted by desperation, you need the strong, carrying it all me. I have to shut it out, if only for a while. I just cannot deal with it, I'm wrought and wrung dry by it all and I'm hurting right now, as I feel the pain for everyone, you, Monty, the girls, me...And I can't resolve it, I can't bring my family back together again.
I'm up to see you first thing after dropping the kids at school. I love you and I know to have so much more to say to me than you can...