Daily Archives: April 5, 2006

I bet my sister….

……. wishes she hadn’t rung me right at that moment!

I always feel a bit bad, actually. My sisters are so far away and feel so helpless, and they do so much to help and support me, as does my brother…. so offloading my tears onto them just before bedtime is really quite cruel but at least I was able to talk with her and feel calmer before bed, even if I have given her a sleepless night.

Thank you for your lovely comments, by the way. It feels sometimes as though it must sound as though I’m on a huge sympathy seeking agenda when really I just need a safe place to offload. And I hope I don’t sound unappreciative of the fantastic support I get from friends here. I am so grateful to God for the gift of such a support network, many of whom I’ve never even met. Just occasionally, though, the sympathy and encouragement is less valuable than just knowing there’s someone there who cares. A little bit like Dad wanting to know I was there, not because he actually needed me to do anything or even to sympathise or tell him he was doing really well or being very brave. He just wanted to know I was there. (And it was the second hardest thing in the world to say “I’m off home now, Dad” when knowing that he wanted me to stay the night beside him).

I have the criteria that I will stay the night if he is unwell or I am worried about his safety in the night. Otherwise, if it is just that he wants me to stay I have to say no, or else I would be sleeping on his (rather uncomfortable) sofa every night and waking the children to take them over to sleep in his spare room on a regular basis. Tonight I know he will be asleep within minutes and even if I pop over to check on him, I’ll probably only succeed in waking him from a deep sleep and frightening him. It’s handy having criteria… wish it made me feel better, though.

Don’t tell me I’m doing a good job, or that I’m being very strong. Neither feels very true at the moment. But hold me and mine in your prayers and know that God will see us through. It’ll probably look a lot brighter tomorrow.

And tomorrow, when I am rested, I will tell you about the fantastic day I’ve had today!!!


I don’t want sympathy, hugs or encouraging words. I just need to say this:

As the mother of two emotionally damaged children, I have to do a lot of comforting.
But nothing in life prepares you for holding your own father tight in your arms while he weeps.

This is bloody hard.