Reflective Journal

The Directionless

I just wanted to reach out, I know it’s been a long few months and an even longer Christmas than usual. Just know, there’s not been a day I haven’t thought of you, the good days and all the compassion I know is within your heart.

The house is noticeably quiet without you, once filled with your laughter, love, and hope. I really believed that you would be here to watch us grow, to celebrate our wins, to cry with us when our hearts break, to see little Iyla win her first gymnastics competition, to tell Dad his boots need to come off before he walks through the door for the tenth time of the day and most importantly to hold us, the directionless, all together.

I keep thinking it would be great if you came back around like you used to when I was younger, you’d have your dark days but you’d always get back up. This time it feels impossible. It’s been several months now and the places you’ve gone to inside your head, seem to have their grip on you and you are none the wiser of the chaos that floods us all.

When I was small, I always felt like I had to maintain home for a few days at best. Today I’m barely holding on, my strength wavers and my sense of self is fading, because so much of that was within you. I know that demonstrates how much of a presence you are within my life, maybe I never said it enough. Thank-you for encouraging me to chase my dreams, and work that little bit harder, because at the moment I’m living proof I never would of done it without you.

I haven’t slept much, when I do sleep I wake up sweating, stressed and confused. I often find myself looking for you in peculiar places, my mind races rummaging through your wardrobe, examining the piles of letters you compiled over the years; looking for clues, glimpses into your world, so I can hopefully bring you back to us one day. I’ve been through the memory boxes in the attic, laughing and at times crying, comforting myself with the belief that you knew this was going to be the case eventually and you kept all this junk to remind us how loved we all really are. The millions of birthday cards, our school achievements and the masses of photos. You were always so obsessed with them. I even found some baby teeth!

There are some silver linings, I’ve become closer to both Geordie and Autumn, which I know is something you always wanted. I’ve finally learned how to use our washing machine, after a tiresome tutorial from Autumn and I’ve even cleaned a few skirting boards – maybe not up to your standards but I’ll hold the fort until you return.

I know you yourself are a little directionless lately, but here’s to hoping and praying in 2024 we all find our way again.

All my love, Lib x

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