And then I cried some more

So I'm training to be a homestart volunteer.  Inspired by monkey, I want to be able to make a difference to someone who might be in a similar situation to us a few years ago.  Homestart are a charity who match families with volunteers who help them in their home once a week.  The training is good; thought provoking.  At the first session we were asked to introduce oursleves to our neighbour.  I did and I told her about Monkey, Pickle & Wotsit.  When it was her turn to introduce me to the group, she didn't mention Monkey.  I completely understand why she may not have felt comfortable doing so but I now feel a little odd.  A bit like I'm denying he was ever here.

So this should be resolved next week.  The organiser has asked me to read a passage about how it feels to have a child with special needs.  There's a reading about planning to go to Venice but ending up in Holland.  I read it a few years ago when we had Monkey.  I thought it was good - it describes the sense of loss you might feel but also helps you to realise that Holland's not a bad place; just a different place.

I think I cried when I read it for the first time but after a while I thought yes, I like Holland, but I'd like to go to Venice too.  And that's when Pickle came along.

Anyway the point is, I've not read it for a while.  I think since before Alex died.  So I read it again.  Except I wasn't quite prepared for my reaction.  You see, I feel a bit like I've been banished from Holland, a place I once loved to be but now I don't belong there.  I can't go there.  Not in the same way.

Cue quite a lot of tears.  Good ones though, necessary ones.  Keeps me sane and helps me remember.

The good news?  From next week (whilst I may have cried in front of 14 women I barely know) I will at least no longer feel like I am denying Monkey.