My mother and I decided after about two hours of sitting there remembering old times and singing Wham! to my dad, it was time to go pick up H from the train station and get some seriously needed shut eye. I was completely drained and exhausted.
I was nervous as to how H was going to be with me. He'd had time to think on the train, had his mind been his own worst enemy or had he seen sense? He got in the car, I sat in the back. I could smell the alcohol on him! He tried to be as cheery as possible to my mum, but I could tell that the fact that he was home was purely honouring his husband duties.
I fell asleep in the back of my mums car, and woke when she stopped outside my house. H pulled the front seat forward so I could get out of my mums ridiculously small Yellow Mini. "I'll call you in the morning, or before if I hear anything from the hospital. And thank you mum".
I gave H a hug in the street, I got nothing back and as I reached up to kiss him he shook his head and gave me his cheek. I was heartbroken. If he loved me, and he knew how much pain I was in why would he not comfort me? What exactly was the point in him coming home at all? I tried shrugging it off so I could get some sleep, but this did not work. I had to bring it up, I had to have it out with him. I really should've thought that through! The conversation that followed was not a nice one, and it left me more scarred than I already was.
My body ached and urged for the gentle touch of my loving husband. He was no where to be seen, what sat in front of me was a stranger. I had never met this person before. He put cold arms around me as I sobbed. Cold, meaningless arms. They may as well have been razors for the pain and the hurt they caused. I wanted to push them away, but I wanted him in any form that he wished to give me.
We slept like two people in a bed, not a couple. Tears rolled down my cheeks as I fell asleep. Maybe he will see sense, maybe he still loves me. This chapter in my life was going to take a long time to heal, the cuts were deep.
H went back to work after the weekend. My dad woke up. I had lost two men in the space of a week. H was a stranger and this frail, scared man in the hospital bed was also a stranger. He could not speak. He was ripping his tubes out. He was acting like a child. I could not comprehend this. This man was my dad, my hero. How could this have happened? How did he become this? I still feared that they would have to sedate him, and that he may still pass away. I always fear the worst. Having experienced so much lose in my life, sometimes its hard to think that everyone around me will not leave, but will stick by me.
H and I did not speak much at all whilst he was in work, and I dreaded him coming home. How could he not see the love I had for him? I love him so much it hurts, and I would do anything for him to know it.
My dad was taking small steps in the right direction day by day, and soon he was on a general ward. He still found it hard to communicate, and would sit next to his bed and look at the birds out the window. He is only 47, he looked about 67.
I took J into see my dad, as I had seen such an improvement in him I thought it as time. They had both been asking to see each other, and my dads speech was a lot better. "What floor is he on mummy?" J asked. "He's on ward C1 babe, so that means he's on the first floor" I replied. J looked puzzled. We walked through the corridors of the hospital. He turned to me and said "I thought he would be on the top floor, being that he's the illest". This made me smile. Like as if there is a hierachy in hospital and the people most likely to die are located at the top. At least I had some reassurance that J now thought that his Bampi must not be as ill as he once thought. The innocence of a child can brighten even the darkest places.
I can't quite remember when H realised, or changed his outlook on our relationship, but he did. He was willing to put his accusations (as thats all they were) behind himself, and give us another shot. I thanked the Lord. I could not cope if I lost him.
With Christmas around the corner, I had a lot to sort out. My dad. My husband. The children. And my mum, who found herself to be a single woman this year. I had to make it extra special for all. Who knows where we'll all be next Christmas, this year has proved that!