Wednesday, 18 December 2013
Dear Alex, Sleep.
And so I sleep, I sleep the hours I cannot weep...I sleep all of Thursday, not wanting to face the world without..
Without the energy and presence and comfort and peace and protection and loyalty.
I sleep the day.
Surprised at the hour when I wake.
Heart still in stomach, it is time to collect the kids, enjoy a school play, dry my eyes, put on a brave face.
I slept in the house, so cold and empty.
Two beds where their owner's are not. Two beds, Alex and Oliver's are empty.
Oliver's forever more, and I do not know when Alex, you shall be in yours.
Both cats sit at the front door, looking out all day...They have done since Oliver passed. Quite out of character, but speaks volumes of what soul he had.
I try and focus on some other things, but Christmas will be without Oliver, with you and a carer and how strangely I look upon 'celebrating' this Christmas.
It feels like a blur, a bleary day that I need to summon upon all my strength, muster up heartfelt smiles, real laughs, which I feel, for the first time, I have truly, truly lost.
I do not feel like me.
Scars and sadness and loneliness and loss, how do you plaster over that?
Only I must. For the kids.
I must, for you.
Only I feel it, really feel it now-all the past happiness, all our family times before stare at me, taunt me, I want to join them, but never will again. This is the first time I have realised this new life, embraced all the change and uncertainty. First time I fully grieve it, and Oh Alex, how much it hurts.
God give me strength, hang up my pain for a while, fill me with the need I long for, for comfort and a helping hand in being brave, because this heart aches, this body is weary and my eyes sting, windows of my forlorn soul.
Posted by Manic Mum at 21:45