Thursday, 9 January 2014
Dear Alex, To soak up the tears.
Illuminated church in the distance, no other light around except the headlights on full. An owl swoops low, in front of the car, I see it through the rain charging at the windscreen and windscreen wipers flick to and fro.
It is 8.30pm, we are still not home. Four wonderful, smiling, chatty kids, one strokes my arm and tells me I am the best mum in the world, one chats about his favourite planet, another about why hey want to live on the moon and the other says they miss Oliver and has a tummy ache...and my heart warms through more pain and a difficult time seeing you.
It takes and hour and a half to get to you, it's a long drive. ANd you shouted, endlessly the same things and kicked so hard you snapped the foot pedal clean off your new wheel chair...
"I'm not blind, I am fine, I am OK, there is nothing wrong with me, I never had an accident, look at me, I am fine, I am not blind..."
This is all you said for the hour or so we were there. What this shows, I do not know? Denial? Understanding? As for the first time it was you who mentioned the accident, not asking 'what happened to me?' But saying you hadn't had an accident.
I gave up in the end, I couldn't be anything for you, not a comfort, not an anything, and so I decided to be what I can be, a mummy, and I took my babies home.
I cannot help my tears as we leave, the weight had to try and evacuate somehow.
I concentrate my mind on the kids, their laughter and eager chatter in the car and tell them I am the luckiest mummy in the world to have them. When they ask why I am crying, I tell them I miss you, that it is hard seeing you like that, that I just wish you were OK, and that crying a bit makes me feel better, and I thank them for being concerned for me.
I need to pull myself back again, tonight was so, so hard.
I will remember the light I saw today, the rainbow, faint against a grey raining sky, the coral outlines around the clouds with a day finishing, the kids' smiles, the kind words of the nurse there, the wonderful treasures I gained in just today, and breathe out the sad time with you...In the hope these soak up some of my tears.
Posted by Manic Mum at 22:49