Friday, 28 June 2013

Dear Alex, your anchor.

28th June 2013

Dear Alex, 

Cat sits in the tree, trunk blue painted by a child of ours, a cat sits sleeping next to me. Dog snores and ears twitch, a child with tummy ache descends and it was lights out a long while ago...

My head spins with the sound of your inconsolable tears and my sides still feel your arm clutched around me like your anchor when I arrived today and did not let go...

That was yesterday, and when I left you did nothing but cry, until the sleeping pill you have took effect and you slept for the night...

The kids and I spent several hours up at their school fair, trying out everything, whacking things, hooking things, eating sweets...they ran around with their friends, drank fizzy drinks and were like any other child. No one would know, if you weren't aware of our circumstances, that they then had to get in the car to make the hour's drive to the Care home to visit their dad in the situation you're in. And I swell with pride at how adapted and accepting they are. How happy and what a delight they are and they will never know how their smiles carry me...

Sun shines and the lake full of Lilly pads and wildlife at the Home is our space today. Kids roll down the hill and we play as you sleep for the first hour whilst we are there. When you awake, you smile and kiss the kids, asking 'is it today?' 'Today what babes?' 'Today that I come home? What happened to everyone? Why am I here? How many kids do we have?' And I fill you in on all the questions you ask and we go outside by the lake, you, me and the kids as a family to spend time together in a Care home. 

But it is what it is, for the moment, until August, it cannot be changed, we just have to knuckle down, go with it and wait...

For our new house, by the sea, where chickens will roam the garden again, where you will garden, I have plans to get you to tend to and plant vegetables...'Dad's garden' and you will be doing something amazing for the kids and for us, growing the vegetables and collecting the chickens' eggs!
We will eat the food you grow.

That is why I am doing this. Moving us as a family unit, reunited again, back to the sea. Yo will excel and be the best you can be in the environment which will open us all again. In the environment you loved, still love, we just have to get through the next 7 weeks.

Today is a day I will bottle up in a green glass bottle. A precious, happy day. You smile, I do, the kids laugh and play, and I know, in time, we will be smiling together in our home Agape.

The name of the house is the word behind our family's love...Agape, selfless love. God has seen and honoured our love for each other, the Most High wraps his arms around us, even providing a house with the name of the word that depicts us...Selfless love. And back by the sea again...

Tonight I will rest with a smile in my soul, because today was a good day, and my bottle of happy memories, despite, sits high upon my shelf of life.

Me xxxxxxxxxxxxx


Thursday, 27 June 2013

Dear Alex, A House called Agape...Moving.

27th June 2013

Back in the, before the accident.

Dear Alex, 

Back by the sea again, breathe..

Breathe in healing properties, memories, love of the noise, smells, family days.

Breathe in a new life, a together forever life, in the same environment you always wanted for your family unit.

I'm not doing this to sever relationships, to isolate ourselves. Neither am I doing it for selfish reasons. I'm doing it not because I have made an impetuous decision that the family have to fall in line with. I'm neither doing because I want to cause a rift or 'take you away'. 

I am doing this, I have made this incredibly well informed, much thought out decision because I believe it to be the best thing from the smallest to the biggest in our family.

Our unit, you me and the kids.

Where their new school is on the beach front, a very short walking distance from where our new home will be.

A house called 'Agape' Greek word for selfless love.

Selfless love I had from you, I have, we all have from the Most High.

This move is for you, for me and our children. Where they will refind themselves in the environment you always wanted us as your family to grow up in. By the sea.

Your 'church and yor mistress' as you always referred to it as...

Your love, our your passion.

It's to open up your environment again, to banish feelings of being as trapped in as you are. To get you in the sea again, relearn to surf!

It's because you can't see, and down by the sea you can feel, hear, smell it all. This in turn will open you up and relax your spirit so you may progress in the way you need to, the way you can.

It's so you can reach your full potential by the side of a wife and kids who have that life back again that you strove to provide for us all for the 10 years before your accident.

It would be wrong to say I don't have reservations, of course a move with you in the place you are and being at home full time will not be plain sailing...

But we will all breathe.

The outdoor orientated life which I, too, have always wanted for our kids.

To have chickens, grow vegetables again!

And to have you by our sides as the kids grow and develop in an environment you and I and they all love and were used to.

I am doing this because it's right for every single one of us.

I am doing it because the kids will grow up exploring, swimming, surfing for pleasure. Because I can feel fulfilled amongst nature and because you will benefit and progress in a way I do not believe you will living in a house by a main road and being pushed around in your wheelchair to 'get you out', around pavements and shops, and cars and people.

You can sit on the sand, hear the sea.

You will be happy and love the area, happy and know we are all together again, back where you always wanted your family to be, by the sea.

We have a month or so to finalise everything, until this point you have to remain at the Care home so you stabilise, and there's no confusion or disruption for you.

Then for the new school year we will have achieved the goal I had since you had your accident, to get you to the place and the kids back to where we all want to be.

Me xxxxxxxxxxxxx

Monday, 24 June 2013

Dear Alex, The Race.

June 24th 2013

Dear Alex,

Imagine you have set off, the path looks long, but it's beautiful and you know you are running the race of life. Hand-in-hand with your best friend, soul mate, advisor and protector. You run together, laugh, cry at times as a few blisters and aches and pains arise. But togetherness wins through and keep stepping onward.

Then out of the blue, thunder rumbles, skies turn black and the path becomes treacherous, lightening strikes and the path with your best friend beside you falls off the path, you have no time to plan, no time to think, all that is in your head is survival and you must keep going. Rain beats down heavily, no idea where the path takes you now, the one you were on destroyed, the one you see other racers on...

Jumping over boulders that threaten to make you fall down, you carry on, the weight of four extra heavily laden rucksacks you have to manage, protect and carry with you, alone.

The path is no longer a path, you have no map, no guide, no blue skies, no relent from the rains and the thunder and lightening keeps beating down, forcing youto your knees.

You are now bare foot, stones piece the sole of your foot at times, but you can't stop to bathe or bandage your hurting feet. They just have to keep carrying you.

Onwards you go and you cannot see ahead, if you lift your head up to try and gage the way ahead, look for your best friend, the rain drowns your sight and it's harder than putting your head down, and treading on. 

You limp and cry out in pain at times, agonising cries. But the rucksacks, the four extra now you hold you have to keep holding on, keep persevering through the race.

I don't know when you will surface agin, your 'I just want to be at home with my family' the 'why am I here?' That echoes round the valley as I try and find you...

You asked me on Saturday 'what happened to me?' And through tears of painful joy, as this is the first time you have been this aware, first time I have heard this, and oh how long I waded along this path hoping to hear that cry, I explain it all to you. Though this particular cry stings, it is the first time you are this aware. 

The rain continues to beat down the path still so unclear, still no road markings, or even a steady path. 

I continue to scale rocks, climbing with nails hooked into crevices that I am sure will break. And some of them do and I just have to hook my nails into other crevices, dragging myself along and around and up and through.

Wondering if I will make, ever, the top.

Wondering if I will find you, rescue you and bring you home again...

Me xxxxxxxxx