A bitter memory that’s sits within the deepest parts of my brain. Today one year ago I handed my sleeping little five month old baby to a surgeon who would cut 2.5cms of his skull out and insert two metal springs that would make his skull bigger for the brain to grow.
Repeat that to yourself a hundred times and it doesn’t sound any better or less dreadful.
Scars have the strange power to remind us that our past is real.”
― Cormac McCarthy, All the Pretty Horses
Like a vivid dream I remember. Like a black shadow going though your body. A humming in your ears and a dryness in your throat. Like a dreamlike paranormal. A glare and shine to white tiles and blue hair nets. A smell… Indescribable. It’s a feeling of helplessness and unbelievable sadness.
Today though I lay them feelings in a small pocket in my head…
Marked “once a year only”.
We celebrate a personality, a growth.
We shout out “Hooray!”for him when he stands alone.
Clap hands when he bangs the balls into the hole, with fierce strength and enthusiasm.
We play with toys together and make the animal sounds.
Today his hair has grown and it’s long and wavy.
He’s got a love for his siblings, a heroic smile for his daddy.
There’s a trust and a acknowledgement, we are his family… He knows that.
It’s a bliss in every week. He shows a comical new learning every day.
So we mark 1 year Post Op…(they call it)
Tomorrow a new day. Each day brings worry but relief. We are sad for him, but see a far distant light. We appreciate the community support and the friends and relatives that helped and cared for us. There’s also a heartfelt thankyou to anyone who has met Spencer.
Love you Spencer. Your bravery and strength is admirable. I’m here every day for the rest of your life…