Wednesday, 1 January 2014

Dear Alex, New Beginnings

Dear Alex,

The New Year begins...The last one ends...How will this one begin?

A new puppy, a new house, a new location. The loss of my old best friend, Oliver, the loss of having you at home, and never knowing what the next day will bring, which 'you' it will bring me.

I let a lantern up on New Year's eve, with old grievances, with hurt, with hopes, with dreams, and promises... I will start afresh this year. I will start a jar, a family jar, where we will all as often as possible place a slip of paper or material or egg box, whatever, and write our moment of gratitude on it. These will store for the year, them building up and open it at the end of 2014 to see our moments we appreciated.

Because at the end of last year I broke. I need to rebuild and reform and refocus. I need to push through hardships and let go. Breathe out hurt, brokenness and work towards a future.

My goal still remains the same; to have you home. Although I do not know when this will be, we at least have the home for you to come to.

I need to keep practicing my giving thanks, naming, writing and not getting lost in sadness, but believe in a changed, but better future.

I want to be stronger than ever before, the best I can be for you, the best I can be for the kids.

I want to look back on 2014 and be proud.

My hopes and dreams for you; to talk more clearly, to walk and to see. I will just keep focussing on these, helping you achieve what you can and more.

I look back on 2013, proud, proud of you, proud of the kids, proud of the move to Devon and how adaptable our children are. How confident, polite, kind and generous their souls are. Proud of you for the progress you continue to make, and will continue to make.

I will make this a good year, despite whatever happens.

I will be strong.

me xxxxxxxxxxxxx

Tuesday, 31 December 2013

Monday, 30 December 2013

Dear Alex, Hope guarded for a togetherness.

Dear Alex,

Another year ends, a new one begins. I don't want to reflect on the hard times, losing my faithful friend, the sadness and trials, I want to advance in a way I haven't yet, I want to reflect on the wonderful moments, of dog walks on the beach and new friends and keeping contact with friends I made as I first moved back to England shortly after you had the accident.

How the children have grown, and their traits I witness developing, their strength of character, their love, how they work together as a unit. How adaptable they are and open and loving and confident.

We began the year not knowing when we would ever get you home. No prospect of this and sank for several months, fighting with the Government to try and rehouse us, fought to keep you going, not regressing. No prospect either of rehab for you or your needs being met. Leaving you each day to go home to raise the kids alone, knowing you were alone crying in a Nursing home in your room.

You did regress, disturbingly so. And the day I received a call telling me you had had a suspected stroke. After hours in A and E it turns out you had had a 'stroke' a similar thing, lost all feeling and movement on the Left hand side of your body, although it was due to the distress you were under in the Nursing home.

I look back, I remember.

Then hope springs, a move back to the sea and a new life, new beginnings for all of us, back together a s a family and a home for us all in Devon. We had light at the end of the tunnel.

We moved in September and although our goal of living all together was dashed, we got through that, the children, so proud I am of them, adapted again to a new way of life and visiting their dad in a Care home for the foreseeable future.

You have a place in an intensive rehab centre, you will progress further there when you go. You have regained almost that you lost physically in the first Nursing home, I cry the other day when I saw you transfer, no belt to lift you with, you have strength enough on your own to pull yourself up, stand tall for ages and lower yourself, controlled and steady into your chair. Your speech is sometimes incredible. You have settled into the new Care home and I have accepted for the time being this is how it has to be. Hope guarded for a togetherness, a reuniting someday in the future.

I look forward now.

I put one foot in front of the other.

A new year almost begins and renewal, strength, hope, perseverance are my words for 2014.

I pray for this.

I draw near to the Most High and seek refuge and strength to hope.

I look forward with a determination in my mind, a hope in my heart.

Me xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx