Saturday, 16 November 2013

Thought for the day #17

There is a picture in our house, I have had for quite some time.

I tried to read the writing on it the other day,

I couldn't, it is too faint, but the author and the title stand fairly clear...So I looked it up, and the wooden picture reads this:

The Serenity Prayer
PathGod grant me the serenity
to accept the things I cannot change;
courage to change the things I can;
and wisdom to know the difference.

Living one day at a time;
Enjoying one moment at a time;
Accepting hardships as the pathway to peace;
Taking, as He did, this sinful world
as it is, not as I would have it;
Trusting that He will make all things right
if I surrender to His Will;
That I may be reasonably happy in this life
and supremely happy with Him
Forever in the next.

--Reinhold Niebuhr
In loving memory of
Fr Bertram Griffin -- 1932-2000
Requiescat in Pace
Trust in the LORD with all your heart
and lean not on your own understanding;
in all your ways acknowledge him,
and he will direct your paths.
Proverbs 3, 5-6

To think I have not stopped to see this before...

Friday, 15 November 2013

Dear Alex, My James Bond.

What a blissful end to the week- my man home for the weekend, dressed up as James Bond, Lola added the Pudsey bear ear hairband!! He comes in going, 'I am Bond, James Bond...' Shooting the kids!!!!

Best night ever, speech as clear as anything, fast asleep now!


Thursday, 14 November 2013

Dear Alex, Time to talk.

Dear Alex,

The socks are all paired, the washing done, dried and put away, every laundry basket empty, every drawer with pressed clothes sit, till kids get their paws on it when they wake! The floors are hoovered, mopped, the windows cleaned, pictures up on the walls, the kids and I baked apple crumble with apples from a neighbour's garden left on our doorstep this evening, read books, enjoyed each others' company, chatting away through the late afternoon, till the sun went down and baths and stories and bed ensued. The house is polished and my mind is also going through a Spring clean.

Time has slowed, I have had two days a week during school hours to slow. I feel I am recuperating after a long battle. Although the battle still pervades. My body aches, muscles feel like I have run a marathon, or several. My head hurts and I am in bed by 10pm, hardly able to wake to the kids in the night, barely able to prize open my eyes when the alarm goes of at 6.30am.

After over two years I am finally at the point where, with time slowing somewhat as the kids are in school and you are at the Centre most days, I cannot help but focus on me a bit. My thoughts have turned to many issues, things that have affected me for years and the situation with you.

Where you are, the Psychologist asked to meet up with me, she wants to get a picture of the whole family, not just you.

I have aways refused and not wanted to talk with anyone professional, I have not felt ready. Frightened to the core that if I talked, it would become reality. That reality, not just going through on survival instinct and automatic pilot, that it would break me. Scared of having time, that my thoughts would unblock, overwhelm me and I would finally buckle.

It is, I realised, time to try and heal. From inside and out.

Time to talk.

Time to cry tears in a safe place, talk about the time I have had, not the time you have had, or the kids, although that is indubitably linked, but time to be me, no holes barred. Bare, real, and it not mattering.

From all I have endured, been through, I know now i will cope, I won't just fall. I know the true strength of my character now. The tests I have staggered though, but still come through, and I know, for me, talking is a healer.

I got something so wonderful out of it, which bruised me, but has made me that little bit stronger in all I am doing, as I talk about how it feels like I have been married to two different people, how I ache for the kids that you cannot be a daddy to them, nurture them and counsel them in the way I always saw you doing before. As I talk about how I feel I have the old you kept in a locket, treasured away inside, she says that the relationship we had, that we have, the connection we carried and still do, but differently, in that locket, I have you inside me. All I learned from you and how intrinsically I knew you; your essence is in me. That I carry the way I knew you would have parented them and act on who you would have been this day too.

Your essence is in me, thus prevailing through me.

How uplifting it was, I hadn't seen it this way before, that I am, in just being who you married, and our souls connecting in the way they did, parenting these kids of ours in the way you would have done too.

I feel less alone.

I feel you more real-ly.

The disconnection and the absence your accident left, is less of that now.

me xxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Wednesday, 13 November 2013

Dear Alex, The key?

Dear Alex,

Squinting, hand over eyes as sun streams through sky and windscreen alike. The barely used roads on my drive to see you are an expanse of rays of sunlight casting their beauty and magnificence onto valleys and hills. Silver beams caressing the misty risings of nature's finery and elegance. I am full of excitement this morning...

I received a call yesterday telling me there had been a cancellation at the Intensive Rehab Centre in Exeter. My wonderful friend and neighbour steps up to kid collecting duties, enabling me to focus on the assessment.

The enchanting scenery I have witnessed on my drive in, adds to the mood, the unknown, the unseen, the you that is, as yet, uncovered from such a lack of input.

Will this be the solution?

Well I know it is, you need the chance to be given to you. The crucial right input.

Today during the assessment it was as though I had to plead our case as to why I felt they should give you the chance. Did you have potential? If not, they will not take you on. After the nearly 3 hour assessment, they all meet and confer, from the people they have assessed today, they make a decision as to who will most benefit...There were 5 others.

My heart was in my mouth as we left, I almost ran back in, pleaded on my knees to give you a chance. But I held your hand tight, cuddled my head into yours and prayed. I had done all I could. They wouldn't take you on the basis of a sobbing woman at their feet at any rate...

My heart rests in my mouth. I almost taste it... So full of desperation for that 'yes, we will take him'...We will find out in written correspondence in the next day or so.

So today could have been a day unblocking a path that had been so firmly closed to us before, when you last had rehab, your Glasgow Score was at 9. This is how they grade a coma, 3 being the most profound, 15 being as awake/aware as you or I. 9 was a fairly low score therefore.

You need this chance, we, as a family, need this chance.

If I can put a message out tonight, it is to please pray they take Alex on, send opening up the pathway energies, do whatever you can, as this could be THE thing for Alex.

The key.

And it is not in my hands...

me xxxxxx

Monday, 11 November 2013

Dear Alex, I don't know...

Dear Alex,

Some days I want to run out into streets, wherever, everywhere, scream at the top of my voice 'Help me, I miss Alex, I miss him SO much and I am hurting...' I want everyone to know how much I miss you, and for a few seconds feel what this is like...That dark, furious depth of 'that' ache I have to live with. Have to do the food shop, put in fuel in the car, do the school run, lose my beloved dog, have to justify myself, bring up our four kids, make porridge, read bedtime stories, do the washing, with it chaffing at my heart.

I don't.

I never have.

I never would.

Because it would never do any good.

It would change nothing.

In life's full-time schedule of life, I do it, a constant ache bleeding inside me.

I know you are there, I feel you at times, I feel like, like it is almost as though you aren't here in this world anymore, that you have departed...Although at the same time, you are fighting to come back, or to leave fully...It is difficult to express.

Even more difficult to live with.

This has been over two years of at times dealing very well with things finding joy, always in the smallest, the tiniest of things. In everything. Reawakening a child-like appreciation for the simple joys and blessings. Being so much in the kids' company, it can't help but rub off.

At times I wade, wade through life, trawl through emotions, grief. Swallow rivers, gulfs of tears and overwhelming sadness. Because despite how well you deal with a situation, despite the joys and blessings you find and discover and count, the reason remains and will always remain-I lost you.

That cannot and will not ever change.

A Christening to go to, again, to face an event with my right arm missing. How vulnerable, how lost I feel without you, and no one can see it, it is not a visible thing, it's not my right arm missing, no one can see my pain and fragility without you.

And sometimes I feel like I should just be getting on with it, forget the pain, there are worse things in life after all, only then I see you and know if you were watching on now, as the old you, how broken by the situation you would be, and my compassion for you soars and wants to tear down the heavens and find God and beg Him to let you see again, beg him to give you back the chance to be a daddy. To look at our four little beings, innocent and wonderful and caring and affectionate and resilient and unquestionably incredible, and say to Him, 'Look at them, don't they deserve to get their daddy back again??'

But I can't.

So life continues on a path of unknown and sorrow and getting on with it and appreciating our blessings.

me xxxxxxxxxx