Saturday, 8 February 2014
Gales hound the sea, the sea harasses the land, rips at landscapes, tears at shores, far reaching and rain falls, and it falls.
I resent tonight, I resent typing another latter to you, I have written countless letters these past 2 1/2 years. And tonight I am tired of it. I haven't been feeling in the place I should be to write recently. It comes nowhere near to being with you.
Laying across your warm chest, your hand stroking my head, kissing me, just chatting about life, the kids, God. Talking about whatever, it doesn't matter, it is just that contact, that being with you.
A place of resent scorns all. It tears, like gales, rips into my soul, my thoughts, it rains nothing but envy. Envy rain that soaks my heart; and my longing for you is saturated with nothing but the odd memory of how our life once was.
Every time I leave the house, which should be our family home.
Every time I breathe a breath without you by my side, a partner with no partner.
Every time I reach for you in the dark of the nights, and you are a cold space in the bed beside me. Where Esmie has slept by my side since you went.
Every time I fancy a chat, need a cuddle, someone to just be there.
You are not.
I will never get used to this.
I see dads at the school, picking up their kids. The shouts of 'Daddy!!!!!' As their child flings themselves in their arms.
Each time Someone writes 'Date night' On their Face Book status.
Each time, and every time, life is there, surrounding us, and you are not.
I want to retreat.
I want the world to stop for a while.
I want to stop forcing my smile, want you to be you next to me.
I want a different life tonight.
And all nights.
Only I don't.
So I have to keep living this one and believe in more.
Posted by Manic Mum at 23:44
Thursday, 6 February 2014
|Betsie, Esmie and Minnie, asleep next to me.|
I love you through every thing, I love you through it all, I love the fact you keep on surprising me! That our conversation tonight was like chatting to a friend! I tell you about the kids, the Monty recently had a maths test, he had 90 questions to finish in 10 minutes- he did it in 3, and scored 90/90! I ask you if you were good at maths, you said yes. When I prompt you about your G.C.S.E's you recall you sat 10, getting A's and B's in them all, you said "Because I was good at everything!" Then laughed your head off!
I have never had a conversation like this on the phone with you, you were not fixated on me coming in, weren't just on repeat, not letting me talk to you about anything other than exactly what time I will be in. It felt so familiar, so wonderful to just talk with you for a few minutes, as we may well have done once before, a very long time ago...
So long ago are those conversations, so long ago we would just give one another a call just for a chat or just to hear each other's voices. Just normality, I think that was it, it was a brief moment of normality with you. A 'Fancy a cuppa, babes?' moment.
My moment, our moment.
HOw far you have come...How settled you continue to be in the Rehab Centre. I think that somewhere deep down, in your subconscious, you have calmed. There is a peace about you that I have not seen in the 2 1/2 years since your accident.
Yes, you still have those times when you are 'lost'. But They are fewer and far between the good times.
I see pockets of light and I am drawn back to a dream I had one day. One hot afternoon, I lay beside you in the Old Care Home you were in, you, for once, were calm and wanted an afternoon nap. I lay beside you and to my surprise, fall deeply asleep next to you. I see a dark circular dusty wall in front of me, black dust spouting forming a mist. Then I try and focus and look carefully, wondering what this is showing me, and as I focus my eyes I see light. Not much, tiny, almost minuscule pockets of light. Bright and silvery, tiny beams start to emanate their light, breaking through the dark dust circular wall. I look and focus on the darkness, and the light starts to shine through again, working faster at breaking down the darkness. I realise I must keep my gaze on the light. It quickly disintegrates all the darkness, I am surrounded by a brilliant healing light. All of a sudden, a peacock, royal blue and equally royal in its stance, walks slowly past, looking at me with bright all seeing eyes. I know it is a king, I feel it.
Researching further the significance of peacocks, I discover they represent 'renewal'. Losing their old feathers once a year, to give way to new more beautiful feathers.
The rest of the dream spoke for itself.
So I have been following this, thanking the Most High for al He has done, focussing on the light. The positives, the good things.
And I am seeing change...
Posted by Manic Mum at 22:07
Tuesday, 4 February 2014
"Focus your eyes straight ahead; keep your gaze on what is in front of you"
Gale force winds, rain, like sand storms, surge sideways, into, across and over the car. I take the motorway, staying in the slow lane all the way home. It is dark, two kids sleep, mouths open, catching flies, two chatter. We chat about their love of writing, how Monty wants to be an author when he grows up, how Lola is writing a story in class and is stuck on the ending, so we explore various outcomes. From the hilarious, to the unpredictable, to the one she is content with.
Only life isn't like that, you cannot write your own story. It is already written. You play the leading role, and yes, have decisions, but noone ever decides on tragic outcomes. That happens to some of us.
And if the author is God, the Creator, The Most High, will my protests when alex pokes his eyes tonight saying "I want to see, I just want to see, I want to see YOU!!" He yells flailing his arm not in the direction I am in...Then he switches off God, just like that, Alex turns his head and slumps in his chair.
It is as though ALex, tonight, for a few seconds you would be there, completely, 'You don't know what it is like to be me, let me explain.." Then by the time I calmed you to talk to me to explain, you replied "later" with that far off look in your unseeing eyes.
It is like holding you in the core of my heart, the valleys of my soul, which launches a deep throb of hope, which pulses, only for it to be snatched away again a few moments later.
On the way home, it is dark, driving conditions which make me focus just ahead, I cannot look around, at the storm, or behind, I have to fix my gaze just forwards, just a few metres forwards, no more or I am dazzled by lights, no less or I would not see far enough to advance.
I thank the Most High for the analogy of life in my drive home.
I fix my gaze on a few days ahead, I know where you have come from, and I am grateful for the progress. I thank the Most High for doing all He has, and ask for more. More of you, for your sight.
And I fix my gaze just enough ahead for the next step...
I 'Google' quotes on 'fixing your gaze ahead' and the bible verse I have put above was listed over and over again...
Posted by Manic Mum at 22:20
Sunday, 2 February 2014
So it has been two years, TWO years today since I moved the family back to England. I remember the night...A blizzard in my soul.The snow fell thick and harsh in England when we landed.
I drove away from seeing you, telling you I felt this was the best, the right thing to do for us all, to move us back to England. I was lost, had never in 10 years made such an important decision on my own, without you to guide me.
Desperate at the fact I would not see you for 48 hours.
I get on board the plane, all our French friends by our side till I have to walk through the gates and leave the life we had set up together for our family. How major, how sudden our decision had been to move to France over 5 years before...We gave everything away, all our belongings, moved within 2 weeks of deciding with 3 suitcases, a cot and 3 under 3's, Mitzi a 6-week-old new born, to begin a new life, the 'Good life'. A bucolic life which enriched us as a family, we strove for and loved.
Now, through tears that pour, unrelenting in their force, just cascade down a broken mummy, a broken wife's face as we take off. I hold the kids' hands, I am trying so hard to be brave. But am terrified. Moving back to a part of England where I know no one. Just moving there for you...
It snows, it blizzards, there is no time to hang around.
As we race into the cars to get us to our new house, a house loaned to us by my parents' friend to tide us over for a month or so as we look for somewhere else.
We live in a house which is temporary, an area which is strange, in a time where I still am not, and never have adjusted to living without you.
I am back in England, to raise four kids without you, and to look after you too.
It's two years' ago today.
I feel as alone today as I did then, I just have got better at hiding it.
I still cannot quite believe it, and yet at the same time, I feel like I have never lived anything different-so much it has consumed me.
Today the blizzard abates a little, you are better than you are then after all. But, when I look back to then, I realise that by this point, I thought you would be almost back to normal. Walking with a limp, perhaps not able to see very well, but not blind. I thought you would be at home, even helping out a little with the kids, I thought it would be different.
I hoped it would be different.
I prayed it would be different.
Only losing you has been my worst nightmare, and I live it and re-live it everyday.
Posted by Manic Mum at 20:43