Monday, 3 March 2014
Dear Alex, I Love Our Kids.
I miss the 'doing normal things', I miss the mundanity of a routine/a normal day.
I miss the 'fancy a cuppa, babes?'
It's these I miss the most.
Mondays are always frenetic, all of us are tired, we are back into the rush of the morning, despite rising at 6.45 am. Porridge and weetabix duties ensue, shoes, coats, book bags, last minute reading, signing forms, putting things in the diary. The fruit, the bottles of water, the teeth cleaning, hair dressing, dressing, making beds, letting the dog out for a wee, feeding the animals…and all the time I imagine you there. Although you would have been up early, probably gone for a surf before you started the day, I knew you would be home by the time I had dropped the kids off at school.
The salty smiles, the kisses and 'how was the school run?' Someone, not just anyone, my best friend to talk to about how it all went, from the tiniest detail to the plans for the rest of the day. When you were around, Esmie was not at school, sometimes in the Summer we would head off somewhere remote to the beach for the day till kid pick up time. I was always so proud the days you did the school run with me. Me on my beautiful man's strong arm. A couple. Parents together.
How the kids loved seeing you-a welcome surprise, as it was usually me there at the school gates.
I drop Mitzi and Esmie off at Gymnastics tonight, popping to the shop with the two older ones. A couple stroll along, they share a moment, he puts his arm around her and kisses the top of her head as she leans into him. My eyes well up and I turn quickly away. As I do this an elderly couple cary a basket and hold hands. This is one of my favourite sights to see, although I now look on with mourning in my heart.
I grab the things we need, forgetting most in my haste and pay.
In the car I sit for a while, engine running, gulping back tears that have sprung me. The kids ask if I am OK. I cannot answer for a bit, I just need to breathe…
Breathe in thoughts of healing towards you, a 'help me, God' prayer under my breath.
I turn, smile, wipe a few tears I could not hold in. I tell them they are the best kids in the world, how much I love them, and wonderful they are for caring.
'I just miss your dad, how he used to be, and I sometimes find it hard being without him everyday..'
I love our kids.
They wrap me up in ways they do not even know.
I love our babies.
Thank you God for these four unique and compassionate souls.
Posted by Manic Mum at 21:54