Thursday, 7 November 2013

Dear Alex, Landmarks without you...

Dear Alex,

Our boy is ten, this is a parental landmark, I feel different. I feel like a very grown up mummy having a ten-year-old!

But my day has subsided into tears. My boy, our boy, and you weren't here to celebrate it with us.

My day was engulfed with sadness, bitterness, that I held well. Monty has had a wonderful party, darlek cupcakes and his best presents EVER, he says!

HE sleeps on the floor in my room, holding his teddy in his arms. surrounded by Dr Wo lego. The lego, which he has received every year for years-being obsessed with it- that he used to sit with you at the table and construct.

He now does it alone.

No dad to be with him and do father and son things.

And I feel so sad.

So sad for him, this landmark double figures age, and you were away from us.

Friends come over with their kids and share the parenting, I see to our kids alone. No dad to play with them, give in and give them more cake, help clear up at the end of having 12 kids in the house.

These times are when I miss you most Alex. When the kids must miss you most. Because the crammed  room, even with 12 kids and 6 adults, feels empty to me without you.

Tonight, I just wanted to say on all our behalves:

It's not fair.

Tonight I want the kids to have a daddy.

Tonight, I want to have a husband.

Tonight I am in bed alone, and ache, silently ache, for you.

Husband to me, father of our kids.

I am so sorry this has happened to you.

So sorry this has happened to our amazing kids.

me xxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Dear Alex, Monty's Birthday....

Wednesday, 6 November 2013

Dear Monty Buster....

Dear Monty Buster,

My heart, my life, my soul, essence of my spirit...

Ten years ago today, you were born. My dream, to be a mummy, realised. With you came every hope, aspiration, longing and a sense of deep peace. Your dad and I were complete.

You, growing up, were the life and soul. I remember how in baby groups, you would be the baby singing, cooing, ahhing and babbling to anyone and everyone who would listen. As a toddler, I have a vivid memory of a huge group of mummies and toddlers singing songs, the hokey cokey was sung and you ran in and out of everyone, going up to each mummy and child singing at the top of your voice and doing the actions to 'oh the okey hockey cokey...' You were hilarious, and have always been full of life and fun.

Now-a-days you are a strong boy, growing so fast it feels like a blur. I grasp and treasure every moment, even the ones when you are having a 'moment'...!

You sleep next to me in bed, or often on the floor in a make shift bed as you feel that security and comfort from being with me.

You cuddle me unashamedly, kiss me and tell me how much you love me before you go into school. After school, you throw your bag down next to me, fling your arms around my neck, tell me 'Hi mum, how was your day?' Then barely waiting for an answer sprint off to play with your friends in the little park outside the school of Mitzi and Esmie.

Such a clever boy, maths is your 'thing'. You love it, and are very conscientious when it comes to homework. Motivated and committed as a person.

You are funny and make me laugh so much. We have banter and you are such good fun to be around.

My heart breaks for you every day that dad can not see you grow up, that he doesn't know you as a father should know his son. How proud he would be if he knew you as he would have done had he not had the accident.

You're much better with your dad now. You are affectionate and even play with him at times. You no longer ignore him, although this has taken nearly two years. I think you still expect him to magically get better, I suppose we all do, such is our feeling of loss.

Monty, I am so proud of you, at times my heart could burst. How caring you are and how you look out for the younger kids, making them laugh, trying to make them feel better if they are sad. It doesn't matter who, whether they are a toddler you saw fall down in the park-you are the first one over to help- or whether you know them well. Such is your deep caring ability and compassion for anyone hurting.

Grow like this, never lose that. It is a generous character trait, a vital one, and a strength to you.

Your smile and laughter light up my life...

I live for you kids...

I hope you always turn to me when you need someone, I will always be there, it may not always be the advice you want to hear, but it will always be the advice to guide you in the right way, on the right spiritual path, just as your dad would do if he could.

I am so sorry he can not.

I love you so much Monty Buster,

Happy Birthday for tomorrow, my ten-year-old boy!


Mum xxxxxxxxxxx

Monday, 4 November 2013

Dear Alex, My man...

Dear Alex,

There you walked, there you smoked a cigaret, there you ran back 'There's swell babes! Get the kids out of the car, it's a beach day!'

Your little ways, little habits, way you always grabbed me whenever I walked by, always telling me how amazing you though I was. Never a criticism of me, unless in a rare argument. 

There you sit, asking always for me, never seeing me, unaware of what and who you used to be. 

Ten years approximately have been wiped from your memory, cleanly wiped away. It has taken you time to recognise, even know we had kids.

A voice from the people we met over those years will stimulate an unconscious memory. It is all there unconsciously.

The unconscious you is strong and remembers it all and would fight so hard through all of this if it had access to your conscious self.

Since being away from you, I have fallen head over heels back in love with you, missing you with every once of me and the person I am. The routine will come, you at home and way in the week, it has been so tough since last Tuesday and I want to fall into your arms and you tell me it's OK, you understand what's going on and this is the best thing for you, as you learn to get stronger, physically and emotionally.

Only you can't.

So I will keep on being there for you, for an eternity and over again my angel.

me xxxxxxxxx