Friday, 23 August 2013

Dear Alex, Memories

Dear Alex,

Memories, not many, but subtle, small and few, all of them precious, they are our memories of you. of their dad, of times we all shared together in health, a different time, a different life, a very different togetherness. 

Memories of theirs, they float, they add layers and depth to our soul, our family history, to their young lives.

Memories of theirs that float away as we talk in the car on the way home from seeing you. They wear them, although they do not realise this as protective coats around their inner beings, keeping them warm as they grow. Those memories nourish them, there is no need to be afraid of them. Even the fact that Mitzi says she wishes you were like you were before. At least it means she remembers you as you were...And that with time, as you keep progressing she will see more of you, more of her daddy return to grab her and cuddle her, talk to her and interact. 

And oh how I long for these days...How we all do.

Your constant questioning, the one you are stuck on this week "How long till I am home?" Each time I tell you with love and eagerness and patience. Each time you react as if it's the first time you have heard the news. "And where are we moving to?" Although by the end of the 5 hours we are there, you seem less surprised, regardless of the fact you ask the same question, maybe it is sinking in?

I look at you, feel for you, can not believe that come the 4th September you and I will sleep in the same room- I will have a mattress on the floor until we get a dual bed as they are called...But that's good enough for me, I will be within arms reach!

Things are falling slowly into place cog by cog, the challenges are being worked through methodically and I feel more in control now.

Memories evoke vivid dreams for me at the moment about people I used to know, long times ago...

Memories the kids fished out and talked about in the car today- swimming all together and sleeping over at our friends' house in France. You bribing Monty to swim as he lacked confidence, promising him 10€ if he swam the length! Monty laughs, a happy healing, whole memory of you. I love hearing them discuss these. Treasuring each word, each memory, reassuring them we were heading for better times. That you will keep progressing, that inside you are no different- it is your shell that is different, but you love them equally as you did when your shell was working and running and playing light sabre battles in the garden.

Memories my angel of times gone. 

Now we build new memories, the kids become, we reform too, who we are and who we are becoming.

Memories of ours of those times are our treasures, rich, to fuel where we need to get to.

I love you ...

me xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Thursday, 22 August 2013

Dear Esmie Rose, Birthday number 5!

Dear Esmie Rose,

Your pink lips pout, one arm behind your head, your chest moves up and down slowly as you breathe and sleep.

I cannot believe you, my baby, our last born, are five-years-old today.

Spiderman mad, you dress in nothing but spiderman trousers, and spiderman T-shirts. The only other outfit you have donned in the past few months is your brother's school shorts and a Minnie mouse T-shirt.

You are hilarious, in everything you do. You strut, you do not walk, when you run you are determined and head back, shoulders back, you speed away! YOur personality is the same as it has been always- so prevalent from a tiny baby. You love to make people laugh, you always succeed, but then again I think you always will in whatever you put your mind to. Because it is YOU who decides, you who makes the call, you who does what you want to do. YOu set yourself a task and you accomplish it, and you do not give in, even through the frustration and sometimes an 'I CAN'T DO IT!!' screaming paddy, you will pick whatever it is you were trying to do back up, and keep doing it until it is achieved. You certainly are the most independent out of all your siblings.

The smallest, by a long way in your class, you are so small for your age, but I am happy- I still get to carry you around a lot, my little limpet!

You are so smiley, so stroppy, so loveable and so loving.

I think, what has happened to Dad has had a different effect on you than for the others. Just turned 3, your world suddenly changed, and you didn't really understand where your daddy had suddenly gone. Too young to express this in words, not old enough, perhaps, to understand my explanations. You have no memory of him as he was before, you are the only one in the family who doesn't. It is strange to think that unlike the rest of us, you never really knew your daddy for who he was or how he was before. And yet, how you have adapted, it is remarkably. No wonder you push yourself, you are so resilient and I think what you have been through has given you the gift of perseverance, endurance and patience. How strong you are as a person, a tiny person...And how far those qualities will carry you. It is staggering how much you have been though and how you are still a little girl-happy, full of love and cuddles and character and smiles, big beaming smiles that light up your face and as your bright blue eyes shine-my soul embraces yours.

You are feisty and you stand up for yourself- use these as qualities, to your advantage, do not let them rule you negatively.

My little bundle of spiderman outfit fun and laughter and delight, how blessed daddy and I were to have you given to us as our daughter.

One of my reasons for getting out of bed in the morning, one of my reasons I am me, one of my reasons I know myself better, one of my reasons for being, trying to be a better person.

Esmie Rose, I love you to the stars, through all the planets and back again.

I am sorry for the times I may have let you down, I am sure there will be more times you may feel this of me. Let me say I am sorry, let me make mistakes, acknowledge them, apologise, and let me in always.

I feel that first year daddy had his accident was one of those years, I didn't have the time to make the most of your last year at home. I would bring you in every day to visit daddy, and I felt nothing but guilt. I couldn't not see dad, I therefore always felt I was letting you down. But if I didn't see daddy, I would have been letting him down and he wouldn't be making the progress he is, and he wants to get back to you and be a father to you again, I know he does, and I need to be there for him to support him through the tragedy that hit him. But I tried to do one thing a day with you, however small, just you and me...I will always feel guilt though.

Sweetheart, growing up without a dad in the traditional sense of the role the father takes on has been heartache for me, although through your smile and your wit and your cuddles, you have made me see, you do incredibly given the circumstances.

I love you my angel ...

Happy Birthday my big little 5-year-old girl!

mummy xxxxxxxxxxxxx

Wednesday, 21 August 2013

Dear Alex, To Do lists...

Dear Alex,

She sits, one leg swung over the bed, head rests on my chest, she reads, our gorgeous biggest girl. Our son listens, lying at my other side, and it is a strange thought that we are coming to the end of this- the end of just them and me.

I cannot speak of excitement at the moment, it feels like an uphill slog, the last push.

I see us settled, well, I think I do, months from now...

But right now I have to get us all there, then back up here for your operation, then back down again!

There's been no time to write to you over the past few days, I fall into bed around midnight-then struggle to switch off, sleep.

I think I just need to survive at the moment- if I can do that I am doing well.

My to do lists do not get done- the kids demand attention, you need visits from me and the kids. So the to do lists roll over to the next day, and accumulate more things to be done and they roll over...and so on...and so on...

I feel disjointed, like life is doing a very good job of passing me by as I tread water.

The to do lists need to get done.

Something else to put on my 'to do' list- 'DO my to do list ..'!

So forgive my lack of writing, I speak to you several times a day and spend as many hours each day as I can with you.

I just do not know how I am going to mange to get us all moved at the moment, and...and...

...And why are you still not here?

That familiar ache that rings in my ears.

Me xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx