I've woken up this morning with Kay on my mind, thinking about her treatment and what went wrong. Thinking about her slowly weakening in those weeks after the bone marrow transplant. Thinking about her last moments of consciousness. And the eternal "why?" question.
It's a grey miserable day today, even for the South of France. A day that is mourning the loss of Kay. A day that has the same colour and tone as my soul. This is the last day of last year that I will ever share with Kay. From tomorrow onwards she becomes solid history, last year's girl.
I don't know how I'm going to get through today. I'm not yet out of bed and it feels way too hard to face. My back hurts and I feel like the oldest man alive, bent, stiff, in pain, broken. Knowing that there are bits of me that are permanently damaged, that will never work again.
So this is it, my life as it has become. Tomorrow I move on to being the father of a beautiful little girl, the apple of my eye, a third of my heart, who died last year. And the distance from Kay will take a quantum leap. My soul screams and kicks, doesn't want this life, rejects it as being alien, refuses to accept that my KayKay is about to become permanent history, that it is the only way things can continue. That this is Force Majeure.
I don't want to leave this year, the worst of my life. I don't want Kay to be last year's girl. I don't want...
Friday, 31 December 2010
Thursday, 30 December 2010
Not strictly on subject moaning
I don't intend this blog to become a moan about life in general. But this once I'm going to say something that is off subject because it's having an effect on me producing on subject material, if you'll excuse the level of indirection.
On Christmas Eve I "did my back in" lifting a basket of wood for the fire that turned out to be much heavier than I'd expected. I was in quite a lot of pain for a couple of days, such that on Monday a friend of ours who is a physio came and had a look at me. She diagnosed a partial slipped disk in my lower back and advised an exercise regime, to which I'm sticking faithfully, believe me. She reckons that this injury has come about because I'm stressed, tired and run down. I guess that I've simply pushed myself too hard during the last weeks and this is the price.
A further problem was that we were supposed to drive to France on Monday. But in the event I couldn't help Marion with getting stuff ready and packing the car, and I was pretty worried about my back during the drive. So we postponed leaving for a day. Our friend the physio arranged for me to get a back brace and I adjusted the lumber support on the driver's seat to maximum curvature, keeping the seat upright. I have to say that our Volvo is pretty comfortable normally and with these additions I drove all the way here in one day, stopping to stretch my back every two hours or so, without major discomfort. However, once here the pain returned. I guess a day sitting vertically in a seat wearing a back brace was pretty therapeutic. Hanging around the house, trying to find a comfortable chair/position to sit in is less so. I've now taken to sitting in a garden chair in the lounge, since it's the only thing high enough and vertical enough not to load my lower back.
The biggest problem is that I now feel like both a physical and mental invalid. My physical state means that I can't do anything, leaving too much time for my mind to roam. I also feel like a complete party pooper because I'm standing (lying actually) in the way of the others doing anything, as a complete group at least.
I'm fed up to the back teeth of being some kind of pathetic weakling, a pitiable subject. Life seems to be unravelling all around me and there doesn't seem to much I can do about it except to focus on wound-licking. Kay's death, skin cancer, slipped disk and more. For goodness sake, how much shit can one guy take? When will I have to stop proving how tough and indestructible I am? It would be so nice to live a normal life for a goodly while.
People who have normal lives, specifically whose children are all alive and healthy, have no idea just how blessed they are.
On Christmas Eve I "did my back in" lifting a basket of wood for the fire that turned out to be much heavier than I'd expected. I was in quite a lot of pain for a couple of days, such that on Monday a friend of ours who is a physio came and had a look at me. She diagnosed a partial slipped disk in my lower back and advised an exercise regime, to which I'm sticking faithfully, believe me. She reckons that this injury has come about because I'm stressed, tired and run down. I guess that I've simply pushed myself too hard during the last weeks and this is the price.
A further problem was that we were supposed to drive to France on Monday. But in the event I couldn't help Marion with getting stuff ready and packing the car, and I was pretty worried about my back during the drive. So we postponed leaving for a day. Our friend the physio arranged for me to get a back brace and I adjusted the lumber support on the driver's seat to maximum curvature, keeping the seat upright. I have to say that our Volvo is pretty comfortable normally and with these additions I drove all the way here in one day, stopping to stretch my back every two hours or so, without major discomfort. However, once here the pain returned. I guess a day sitting vertically in a seat wearing a back brace was pretty therapeutic. Hanging around the house, trying to find a comfortable chair/position to sit in is less so. I've now taken to sitting in a garden chair in the lounge, since it's the only thing high enough and vertical enough not to load my lower back.
The biggest problem is that I now feel like both a physical and mental invalid. My physical state means that I can't do anything, leaving too much time for my mind to roam. I also feel like a complete party pooper because I'm standing (lying actually) in the way of the others doing anything, as a complete group at least.
I'm fed up to the back teeth of being some kind of pathetic weakling, a pitiable subject. Life seems to be unravelling all around me and there doesn't seem to much I can do about it except to focus on wound-licking. Kay's death, skin cancer, slipped disk and more. For goodness sake, how much shit can one guy take? When will I have to stop proving how tough and indestructible I am? It would be so nice to live a normal life for a goodly while.
People who have normal lives, specifically whose children are all alive and healthy, have no idea just how blessed they are.
Monday, 27 December 2010
The Other Side of Christmas
Well, we're here, on the other side of Christmas. This is not an achievement, it's just a fact. My heart kept beating and drove my system on, although for a while I wished it wouldn't. I'm not even going to attempt to describe how difficult and painful Christmas Day was, I couldn't begin to do the feelings justice.
Lauren had a very hard day indeed. She's really suffering from grief, not understanding why, etc. Nothing that I can help her with, the only solution is a lot of Daddy Cuddles, which she got.
Marion did fairly well. No major collapse, she just worked herself stupid the whole day. Is this better? I don't know but it worked for her for a day at least. And now we just have face the end of the year in which Kay died and the beginning of a new year without her. My stomach churns with fear at the thought.
Lauren had a very hard day indeed. She's really suffering from grief, not understanding why, etc. Nothing that I can help her with, the only solution is a lot of Daddy Cuddles, which she got.
Marion did fairly well. No major collapse, she just worked herself stupid the whole day. Is this better? I don't know but it worked for her for a day at least. And now we just have face the end of the year in which Kay died and the beginning of a new year without her. My stomach churns with fear at the thought.
Saturday, 25 December 2010
Friday, 24 December 2010
Snow Angel
What's the protocol for a Christmas with a missing child?
I'm trying to hold off the dreadful thoughts through mental discipline - think about something else, do something else or think about nothing at all. Marion is bathed in grief. She says that everything she does, everything she thinks, everything she touches reminds her of Kay. There's only a hairs breadth between tears and no tears and she crosses the line easily.
This is just a terrible experience. Like a Snow Angel, Kay is demarcated by what is not there, by a silhouette of absence, by an echo of nothing, by a need that can never be fulfilled. The light in our house, the presence of our family, the smell of wonderful cooking serve merely to highlight what is not. With my photographer's eye I can see where Kay is not, but I cannot capture her. With my physicist's eye, her absence is a black hole set in the centre of our lives, visible by the effect that it has on the light that flows around it.
I miss my Kay. From the nucleii of the atoms that make my being to the deepest places of my heart. I miss my Kay.
Kay, wherever you are my darling, I love you more than I can ever say or think or do.
I'm trying to hold off the dreadful thoughts through mental discipline - think about something else, do something else or think about nothing at all. Marion is bathed in grief. She says that everything she does, everything she thinks, everything she touches reminds her of Kay. There's only a hairs breadth between tears and no tears and she crosses the line easily.
This is just a terrible experience. Like a Snow Angel, Kay is demarcated by what is not there, by a silhouette of absence, by an echo of nothing, by a need that can never be fulfilled. The light in our house, the presence of our family, the smell of wonderful cooking serve merely to highlight what is not. With my photographer's eye I can see where Kay is not, but I cannot capture her. With my physicist's eye, her absence is a black hole set in the centre of our lives, visible by the effect that it has on the light that flows around it.
I miss my Kay. From the nucleii of the atoms that make my being to the deepest places of my heart. I miss my Kay.
Kay, wherever you are my darling, I love you more than I can ever say or think or do.
Habit dies hard
The presents that I bought for the kids to give Marion arrived yesterday. So this morning I showed them to the kids so they could choose which one they want to give. Don't ask me how it came about but I suddenly realised that I'd bought THREE presents, one for each girl. Ouch x Mega Millions.
So now what do I do? Let two girls give three presents thereby emphasising the missing one? Or do I give the third present myself and pretend the hole is not there? Or should one be from Kay thus almost certainly triggering an outburst of tears? So should I leave the third one in the cupboard for another day and just ignore the subject?
Man, I hate this, the pain is so intense.
So now what do I do? Let two girls give three presents thereby emphasising the missing one? Or do I give the third present myself and pretend the hole is not there? Or should one be from Kay thus almost certainly triggering an outburst of tears? So should I leave the third one in the cupboard for another day and just ignore the subject?
Man, I hate this, the pain is so intense.
Tuesday, 21 December 2010
Not Enough
I still cannot begin to understand how a whole living person, a child so full of life, can be turned into merely a photo and an inadequate collection of vague memories. It doesn't make any kind of sense. It's not enough, the imprint that Kay has left behind. It's not substantial enough, not enough to hold on to.
My need to hold her has never been greater, nor has my disbelief in the course that our lives have taken.
My need to hold her has never been greater, nor has my disbelief in the course that our lives have taken.
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