4th May 2013
Sipping Rooibos and vanilla tea I harbour a secret-a happy one, one that each time I tell you, your eyes fill with delight, you yelp out happy 'really? really?'s...This happy secret which I will tell the world in time. My smile sweeps across my face once more, imagining. Imagining new beginnings, hopes, dreams. Different ones, but still together ones, stepping out on a family adventure and my family unit reunited once more.
It is 19 months exactly today. Nineteen months since the man I knew and adored, the man I was protected by, comforted by, held by, was nearly taken from me for good. Now the man, who cannot stand in front of me, sleeps, head to the left side (as it still often droops) in a hospital bed which replaced our table and chairs in the Dining room.
I stroke your face, kiss you gently where the piece of skull was cut out as quickly as they could to release the pressure of the brain that fateful day.
I walk upstairs, carrying my cup of tea, my lap top and my thoughts.
Nineteen months on and my heart still aches, an ache still as fresh as the day I was told you would not make it. As raw and real as the second I lost you as you used to be. It is easier to live with some of the time now. Some of the time I may feel the throb of the ache less. The days of panic lessened, safe as we are now, out of that danger and the terrifying unknown. My unknown world now I am not quite so scared by some of the time. Sometimes even facing the day without the dark shroud of grief that cloaked me tightly the first year. I have begun acceptance, and have started preparing for our future-looking forwards, not just a daily fight, but looking at how I can carve out the future for our family together.
...'Our future together' The happy sentence echoes in my heart and I smile a broad smile again...
Alex, you are still the man of my dreams, my everything and my light. Your love for me envelops me still and I am such a lucky girl!
Sweet dreams my angel, see you in the morning.