Well… there was barely enough time to butter let alone fill my family sandwich with any ‘me time’.. before the other slice has been slapped with vigour on top.
I am sat in A&E in York. With Tom.
I am flitting between hysterical laughter, anger.. and still the lingering anguish and sadness that threatens to spill out again.
The Pain Body remained present when I got home last night. He is like a giant mass of Vaseline following me around. … The main mass from the current pain and sadness representing the decline and loss of my Mum. Additional blobs are stuck on like barnacles… each representing a different painful experience…. The loss of our 3 babies, betrayals by those I have loved, friends I have trusted, cruel words in the playground as a child……
He has big googly eyes looking at me, reflecting all my secrets and pain.
He sat at the table last night while I played Guess Who with Willy. Silent and watching.
He got into bed with me as I lay trying to sleep, counting my blessings.
He got shoved aside as Willy crept in to cuddle me through the night and kicked out to the shadows as Tom joined us too.
He sat in the back of the car as Tom and I sang to ‘Forever Young’… he even joined in raising his arms and singing… showing maybe a hint of smile?
He is sitting on the hard purple hospital chair opposite me. Staring me down.
Is another dollop about to be added to his Royal Blobblness? There is no greater pain than seeing your child in pain… helplessness.
I recall the pain I felt when I saw the shattered bone in Tom’s arm when he fell off the wendy house roof. He was so brave. I cried ‘like girl’.
He is so brave.
Slide tackled in the playground and into the railings. Swollen ankle, can’t put weight on it… sucking air in through his teeth as we bumped over the potholes on the back roads on the way to York.
And now we wait.
As I drive back from A&E, there is a large red mass in the back seat. The Pain Body has morphed from a pale cream wobbly dull shadow, to a large pulsating pillar box red, angry mass.
It keeps diving back into my stomach and swallowing my heart and making my head shout.
Until I remember to breath in and out, in and out… live in the moment.
In one moment when the angry mass was inside me, I shouted at Tom for putting on an horrendous song on the radio which fuelled my banging anger. Mortfying.
I breath and the Pain Body dives back into the back seat, restless, threatening to dive back in, relentlessly opportunistic.
Bullying and nasty behaviour in the playground through December.
A tooth implanted in the forehead after an ‘accidental’ head on collision on Wednesday.
A suspected fracture of the ankle after being slide tackled into the railings on Thursday.
The same names keep coming up.
Breathe in and out, in and out. In and out.
Live in the moment.
Tom is happy with his toasty. Proud of his crutches. He is one brave solider. Laughing as I carry him up the stairs… Giggling as we struggle to pull tracky bums over his pot, wondering if he will have to spend the next few days in just his pants!
The Big Man is almost home. He will fight off the red angry mass with his rationality. He will sooth the pale blob with his love and compassion.
In the meantime, I will just focus on breathing in and out, in and out.