Dear Alex, Today You Moved Again.

Dear Alex,


You've moved.

We have done it again, another change, another move for you. I came straight to see you, and the kids (lead by Monty) said,

 "Mum, we will give you a few minutes just with Dad OK? Don't worry, we won't go far"

And this set you off.

They are growing up so fast, how considerate they are, how sensible they can be. Such grown up heads on compassionate shoulders; they bear the weight of you being this way with dignity and strength.

You are tired, but OK after the few tears you shed. But need me to explain what has happened, where you are, what went on. And, for the millionth time, I have to tell you again about the accident, and reorientate you now you are back in the Care Home again.

It is a strange phase. When you were at Exeter, I had no choice, I had to visit infrequently, and did this fully in the knowledge that it was what was best for you. I also knew you were in the best place you could be, and was excited to see what progress you might make.


Now, it's a quiet phase again. A watching, hoping, visiting, waiting, hoping some more, in a vast stretch of time where I do not know what to expect.

Time stretches out ahead of me, lifetimes' worth, with no compass, no map, no route.


I don't know what I am doing in fact, I feel strange.

I need direction from you.

I need more of you.


Me xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx