A Christmas wish a Christmas prayer, answered. Entertaining and exited kids, noise, presents, mess, chaos, and more people that have been in our house since we moved here made me anxious for you, how you may be. I want normality around you, dread that too much noise may make you flip.
And yet, and yet...This Christmas I got my prayer answered. You were sleepy but on great form. With old friends you have not seen for a while, with new friends, neighbours you barely know, and dozens of kids, you did it! Remained with it, and I have been overwhelmed by you.
I had the best Christmas present from you I could have hoped for.
Months I have not seen you sustain such a good mood and for this length of time.
Why cannot it by like this at all times?
Then I would achieve my life goal- to have you home.
Sadly tomorrow it will be over as you go back to the Care Home.
After entertaining so many people I am exhausted, I have cooked solidly for 3 days, spent wonderful time with the family and close friends, and your parents joined us too today, and even Esmie being sick al day didn't put a dampener on the mood.
Who knows when you will be home?
But for now, just for today, I got my Christmas wish...
I sit in bed with aching legs and warmed heart.
I will just focus on how this Christmas went for now, to strengthen me a bit, ignite some of that hope for the future...
I love you my angel,
Thank you for a Christmas present I never knew I would get, the best one I have ever received.
Taking a glass by himself..a difficult, almost impossible task for Alex these days...
Hopes raised, lists written, all prepared and just a few minute last things to be got from the shops... a neighbour's kids to entertain and 12 adults and almost as many kids to be had on Christmas day; and I think how far I have come...from seemingly blessed times of you and me and the kids and that being 'enough'...
The idea of sharing our house, any house with anyone but us, was nigh on unthinkable before... But now, now, my baby, we have kids who accept anyone, so accustom to people, strangers walking in and out, people they have never met being a 'normal' part of our lives...So natural it is to them that it is part, a presence of their daily small lives... and I realise the richness in this. Of their open minded, accepting upbringing. No matter who walks through our door... So our door remains open to those who want to walk through...and whoever else, it phases us not. whoever that may be being in our house, and how I love this.
It is not the kid's, but my concept of 'closed doors' and 'private' living, that now brings on now a whole new concept of living...
In looking at my feelings and my emotional 'Why can't it just be a 'normal' Christmas'' ..I then watch our four wonderful, beautiful, accepting souls and it brings me to my knees...
Had it not been for them, their way of acceptance, I am sure I would not have invited the almost dozens I have for Christmas Day.
I dwell on what Christmas is all about, the way in which the baby, that new born, Jesus, years ago, who brought in so many strangers. I think of today, how, in such a different set up, our kids have opened me up to being as accepting, as jubilant about strangers joining us on Christmas day.
I have to set about Christmas and the New Year in a way in which will help me on our new journey.
It is, after all, our journey, and to exclude their energy, those precious beings, their will, their ways, their guiding me, is to ignore vital lessons of life.
So this Christmas for us, with you, the various carers, the people we have known for but days, weeks or months, I look to my kids for guidance, and welcome all they can teach me...
Life is a journey of learning and guidance, from wherever we can be taught...
Time never stops, never stands still, allowing you to inhale timeless air for a while, to reboot, and advance.
Normal life continues and as I place the bins out tonight in the darkness of late evening, I turn to the direction of the sea, waves roar and I look up, astounded by the clear night, breath wisps in front of me and I turn 360 degrees to witness a sky filled with bright stars...
I need to, I know, get back on track.
So I set off slowly.
Naming blessings, counting up the moments of precious joy and raw delight only my kids bring...I chat with several of the others at the Care Home when we visit you today. It was a calm afternoon with you, the first in longer than I can remember...Esmie making us laugh, Lola chatting about everything and cuddling you...
It can only start by changing my inner thoughts. A progression of gratitude for my many blessings, walking through the ache and sorrow.
My friend was with us, Oliver and me, on the last beach walk before the vets came, she captured a photo of me leaning down kissing Oliver's head, she had it blown up for me and it is on the wall next to the door where he used to lie. He will always be in my heart and a piece of me will always be missing. I haven't felt the same since he went. I haven't' felt the same since you went.
Breathing gratitude, lightening your gaze by the practice of this. It is not a miracle cure, but it insists you concentrate on the joys, as tiny as they can be, in this life, thus expanding your horizon.
I cannot say I feel less sad, cannot pretend I do not miss Oliver as much, cannot pretend not seeing you as often is not affecting me, but I just have to do what I can towards travelling in the right direction, as a mummy, watched closely by four souls, I have the responsibility of this.