Generally people are very keen for me to be happy that Axel has largely left and is leaving. It's good for him, for me, for Anusha. About time.
For me, all emotions are to be valued, heard and supported. My happiness is easier for people, my grief, difficult for most people. I find it hard enough to honour my grief without constantly being herded away from it.
I am finding it hard to be out in public with the "How are you?" question. "Fine thank you, grieving the loss of my child". Axel leaving for care aged 10 is a huge step, a huge nail, a closing door on hope. My hope for even a non-verbal cohabiting. I am willing to serve him but he and we are no longer safe so he is leaving.
I yearn for him. The child that is. My pleasure is in seeing him eat well, cream his bitten hands, tickle him, see him sleeping soundly. I no longer get to care for his body.
I yearn for him. The him that has not come yet, will not come. I need to let him be. The boy who talks, wants friends, children, me. Let him be, he is not here, he never came.
What I get in this is that Hope is a difficult friend to have.
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