Friday, 24 May 2013

Dear Alex, 23 rd May 2013 Part One.

Dear Alex,


It is 10.30 am, they call, the Care home, I have to go in. I wasn't in earlier today as I couldn't have been. I must go there straight away, they would explain when I was there.

Stuck in traffic, behind a huge lorry on the back roads, barely blinking, heart racing I just have to focus on driving, on getting to you. Terror, what has happened? I just need to be there with you, why is it taking so long?

Over an hour and I race the car into the car park, don't stop to sign in, race up to you.

Shaking, red eyed, howling, calling my name, kicking out, bellowing 'home, home'

Crisis point has been reached, not eating, not sleeping unless I am there to calm, reassure, soothe. To get you into bed and you rest, to sleep only those 3 hours I am there, the only 3 hours I am able to be there between school drop off and pick up.

Since Monday you haven't been eating, you haven't slept at night. I have been desperate for you, this week I broke.

I have wept for hours, a heart feeling as though it may leap from my chest, break through my bruised ribs and hurtle, broken one final time to the floor.

Thursday 23rd may 2013, I call it a day. Enough is enough I cry and I cradle your head, still your kicking legs, wipe your tears and I tell you I am taking you home, I think 'sod the consequences' ...

You grab me, kiss me, 'thank you thank you, thank you' is all you say, over and over like a beating drum. 'I need to be at home' you articulate this more clearly than I have ever heard you say anything.

Emails, distraught phone calls, all week for me...all who know me have never heard the urgency like this in my voice. Hear my broken spirit, no matter who they were.

This is it, this cannot be done anymore, and my angel I just know I have to make this stop.


But how do I have the final say?


How do I get you home?

We are back in that place... Forced, head down, not finding a solution, not knowing where to go, how to do it, and for the first time ever I am terrified you won't make it, that this time it is just too much, I fear for your health, your fragile health and I fear for me and the kids and oh honey, why, as your wife, can I not just take you where you belong, where you need to be, where we all need you to be.... Home...?

Me xxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Dear Alex, Clues...

Just pictures, that's just all there is...clues to an unexpected Thursday and the day that changed the rest of our lives...

You have to wait to find out the exact truth, the actual happenings!

Wednesday, 22 May 2013

Dear Alex, My Angel...








Dear Alex,

After a traumatic greeting when I come in to see you today, tears, non stop, I help you into bed to rest, you are exhausted from yet again being up most of the night, apparently calling for me. I sit, watching over you...This is what I write,


My angel, you sleep as I sit here, type and weep...
My angel you sleep talk 'I love you, Tamsyn'
You say with a smile creeping up your cheek.
I whisper, are you awake?
No sound,
My angel, you sleep talked,
And my heart knows we are bound.
My angel I am aching,
From my heart to my soul.
I have the old you inside me,
In a locket,
It burns a hole.
In another time,
Inside a different me,
Inside, guarded,
Too protected,
Mine.
My angel this is torture,
This is wearing,
I feel the weight of the untold.
My angel,
For your love 
Your arms, to swaddle me
Till the end,
Grown together, old. 




me xxxxxxxxxx

Monday, 20 May 2013

Dear Alex, Every Thought...

20th May 2013





Dear Alex,

Is that really the date? nearly the end of May...Is it ever going to just stop, time, and reverse and give me you back? Nothing more than a dire long nightmare that took the man I loved, the man I adored from my reach. That made him not be able to see his own children, able to talk clearly, able to walk, communicate, protect me or provide...

I busy myself after the late cricket run, surrounded by Dads looking on, collecting proudly their sons, son runs at dad, dad pats him on head, 'alright, son? How'd it go, how was your batting?'...And son looks at dad, love in his eyes as they walk off- dad's arm round son's shoulder and son kicks grass and they go home together. I feel sick. Cricket always gets me. Monty cries every time after.

He cries from the moment we are in the car till the moment he heaves his last sob in my bed- he sleeps every Monday in my bed, not wanting to be on his own 'in case I have nightmares again, mum, please?'

I stroke his head and I let his tears roll. I have been thinking recently that I have almost forgotten how it must be for him, in particular him, especially as he grows. He grows without the dad he had. He plays cricket without the dad helping him, neither there at pick up nor at drop off. And in his head, you aren't a dad to him...

So he grows without his dad.

He gives you kisses and the odd cuddle now, that's easier for him, but anything more than that he rejects. He doesn't talk to you spontaneously as the girls do, I step in gently encouraging- 'Ask your dad if you want a biscuit, not me' just to include, to try to heal a broken father and son bond.

But I can't.

Not me.

Not now.

Not ever?

And so tonight I busy myself after I finally have them in bed, I fold washing, I wash clothes, I steam clean the carpets and I try not to think of you.

Only every thought as I clean, wash, fold, clean wash fold, clean wash fold, is for you, and for our red eyed, cheeks I can trace the tracks of his tears, now asleep in my bed, where once you used to lie, little boy...




me xxxxxxxxxxx


Sunday, 19 May 2013

Dear Alex, Welcome to my Weekend...






18th May 2013


Dear Alex,

A picture, a photo of you I have never seen before, someone posts on FaceBook earlier today. I freeze. I usually don't check Facebook until the kids are well tucked up in bed. But I had to email someone, and this photo of you pops up. It is always a surprise how this sort of thing makes me feel, though I should be used to it, should know how seeing you as you once were makes me feel...

It makes me feel like it was another time, another life. Like that one never really existed. It feels like this is all I have ever known-so all consuming it has been.

And tonight, it's gone 11pm as I write this, I took myself up to bed, as downstairs you were in bed, wanting to sleep, and I don't really like spending my evenings with a carer there, as wonderful as they are, I like my own space, so take myself upstairs to write...to read, reflect and pray...

But I am back down, every few minutes, as you call for me over and over, and I am spent. This has been going on for a few hours and I can do nothing, I think you settle, I ascend the stairs again, then the whole process starts again. Your complete and utter dependence on me is round the clock. I feel that as you cannot see where I am in the house either, that you need that constant reassurance that I am there, and call me over and over until I am with you- only with four kids to amuse and see to their needs too at the weekends when you are home- this is not possible, I cannot just stay next to you and not leave your side. And I wish you could only see, oh the things that that would change.

You have woken Esmie twice, who cries and I have to run back up to make sure she settles and is ok.

My body cries out for sleep- it's already been an almost 18 hour day for me, and no sign of it relenting.

Welcome to my weekend!


No, honey, I wouldn't have it any other way, but sometimes I just feel so very, very tired.


me xxxxxxxxxx