Thursday, 4 July 2013

Dear Alex, Sand slipping through my fingers...

4th July 2013


Dear Alex,

A man stands by Oliver, our dog who comes to school to drop off the kids and I tie him outside the school gates by the 'no dogs allowed' sign. From a distance I almost break into a run, is it YOU? Has this all been a nightmare? Why have I had to wait this long to wake? Feel your strong arms wrapped around me again? His physique the same as yours, in tshirts and jeans, as you would always wear...

Then I realise with a sudden heart crash, that of course it's not you, of course I don't get you back, of course I am awake and I will be late in to see you if I do not uproot my feet which, from wanting to break into a sprint, fly into your arms, now cement me to the ground.

Then I realise there is a huge buried part of me that does not believe any of this is real. A huge part of me I never pay attention too, a lost part of me, the part that used to be me and you.

And I realise how I will never get that hug from you, that 'its alright now, baby, I'm here'. And how my soul aches for this, how it aches and yearns endlessly just for even 5 minutes of you as you once were.


And I feel ridiculous, am I not over it yet? STILL?

It's 21 months exactly to the day when I lost the you you were. The you you were to me, the you who looked after me, protected me, loved me...

I know your love for me still abounds, and I thank God daily, every second of every day for that, but you cannot looks after me, help me, be an ear to listen to me, advise me...

Oh and baby at the moment I need you.

I cry silently the whole time I am with you today. You went up to Physio, you could not stand, could not lift your head, I have not seen you this physically unable since a year ago...it feels like a year's worth of progress physically has been undone.

And with no one-to-one support I am terrified for you.

Sand slips through my fingers, torrentially slips right through, it's like, if I could just hold onto the sand, you would make it back, but no one can hold on to the sand, so fine and any whisp of wind sends it flying away for ever...

In your wheel chair, you slump, head hanging, saliver drenches your tshirt and your mouth lolls to one side.

How can this have happened? How can they have let this happen?

Despite my daily fights to assist you, get you what is right for you?

And I won't sleep tonight, I know I won't, because my heart aches too agonisingly for you. And for what, now, appears to be lost.

HEART FM Oxfordshire will be running the story on news bulletins at 6, 7 and 8 am tomorrow.

This must make them listen, has to change things...because you are supposed to be moving home soon, and with you as physically regressed as you are...a huge doubt is in my mind...there is no way you will be able to in this state...

Tears flow again.

Tonight I am sad. So, so. Sad.

I love you Alex Wood, and I for one will never, EVER give up on you, the man I love, the man who saved me, the man who gave me what saves me now, our four little growing souls.



Me xxxxxxxxxxxxx

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