Daddy and I went to the dedication of the new leader of our church yesterday. It was the sort of event you would have loved. Your Army family were out in force (a relatively large group of us went, after the 2 o'clock open air on Oxford Street), and the International Staff Songsters and the International Staff Band were there. You would have particularly enjoyed the Songsters, because we were sat right next to them, so you could have conducted their singing to your heart's content.
The entire event was broadcast live on the internet - it might still be there for you to watch one day. Aside from thinking about what you would have made of the day, General Bond's comments pose an interesting challenge to Daddy and I.
Having had our eyes opened (by our own direct experience) to the suffering that hundreds of thousands of families go through every year in the family courts, Daddy and I cannot close our eyes and our hearts to that suffering. Now that we have seen the injustice enacted daily; now that we have experienced the effects of it across the whole family; and now that we appreciate the long term consequences both for the individuals concerned and society as a whole, we cannot go back to the blissful ignorance we lived in before.
Daddy has faithfully and persistently sought to bring the plight of those hundreds of thousands of families to the attention of our leaders, so that we might look as an organisation to bring our ministry to the many people mired in despair, and being eaten up by hate in the midst of these family battles.
To our genuine surprise, Daddy's requests for meetings with those in leadership roles has been met with a determined resolve to remain blind to the issue. Those in authority have sought to use Daddy's individual case and their personal feelings about Daddy as grounds to ignore both the wider societal ill and the opportunity for ministry that God has offered.
What those trying to silence us haven't banked on is this: this is not a matter for the Army to choose whether it wishes to notice or not. Daddy and I know that we have been called to ministry - and to this particular ministry. Daddy and I are convinced that the Lord has exposed him to the heartache and distress of the last year so that we might see and understand the need, and so that we can do something about it.
We hoped the Army would be a mission partner. We have offered every opportunity. But the Army needs to know that we won't sit on our hands whilst it wakes up to the issue. If the Army isn't with us, we won't go away dejected: we will draw strength from the Lord and we will do it anyway.
General Bond yesterday said that the Army must listen to its soldiers. Her vision is of a Spirit-filled Army reaching out to bring the light and love of Jesus to the suffering in the world.
For the time being, the Army doesn't want to listen to its soldiers. It is determined to try to make the problem go away by adopting the playground technique of putting its fingers in its ears and pretending not to hear, supplemented by a bit of good old-fashioned name calling.
Daddy and I must draw on the rivers of living water and call in the promise that we will have strength and resources enough for the task.
Monday, 18 April 2011
Wednesday, 13 April 2011
Setting the date (2)
It was your Uncle and Aunty's wedding in Nottingham at the weekend. Daddy and I went, and we saw the rest of your family for the day, gathered from across the country. Your name was on the invitation - everyone wished you were there.
When you go to a wedding, there is always a little boy looking smart in a suit, but behaving in a way that shows that he is still, after all, only two years old. So we looked on whilst another little boy rolled down a grassy hill in his new suit and pulled funny "cheese" faces at the camera, thinking all the while what you would have made of it all if you had been there. You were all set with your suit - a suit was tried and tested Sunday best for you, and you knew you looked cute in it.
If Daddy and I thought that your Uncle's wedding was hard without you, we've got to steel ourselves for an even harder day yet. I wrote about setting the date for our wedding a little while ago. Well, now it's set, and the day is getting rather close.
We shall be very sad that you are not with us. We can't even send you your invitation without risking criminal harassment charges. Invitation or no invitation, you would be welcome and wanted, if by some miracle you could be there.
Daddy and I will most likely have to hope that pictures will tell the story for you when you're grown up.
Speaking of pictures, we have had some good news today on that score too. Daddy took his broken zoom lens in for repair and the nice folk at Canon fixed the switch, so it can now autofocus again. The Canon 5D SLR body I bought last year is in for repair with Canon too, after the mirror detatched when Daddy pressed the shutter during the speeches at your uncle's wedding. Luckily for us, Canon are doing the repair without charge because the fault is down to some dodgy adhesive used when the camera was built.
So by the beginning of next week all of the photographic kit should be back in working order, ready for service. We don't take nearly as many photographs as we used to when you were with us. We were like paparazzi at times, with you playing the diva celebrity, grinning into the camera, and demanding to take pictures of us.
In other good news, Daddy now has two keyrings. Yes, Daddy strikes again. The "lost" keys weren't lost after all. In fact, they never even left the house!
Love, K
When you go to a wedding, there is always a little boy looking smart in a suit, but behaving in a way that shows that he is still, after all, only two years old. So we looked on whilst another little boy rolled down a grassy hill in his new suit and pulled funny "cheese" faces at the camera, thinking all the while what you would have made of it all if you had been there. You were all set with your suit - a suit was tried and tested Sunday best for you, and you knew you looked cute in it.
If Daddy and I thought that your Uncle's wedding was hard without you, we've got to steel ourselves for an even harder day yet. I wrote about setting the date for our wedding a little while ago. Well, now it's set, and the day is getting rather close.
We shall be very sad that you are not with us. We can't even send you your invitation without risking criminal harassment charges. Invitation or no invitation, you would be welcome and wanted, if by some miracle you could be there.
Daddy and I will most likely have to hope that pictures will tell the story for you when you're grown up.
Speaking of pictures, we have had some good news today on that score too. Daddy took his broken zoom lens in for repair and the nice folk at Canon fixed the switch, so it can now autofocus again. The Canon 5D SLR body I bought last year is in for repair with Canon too, after the mirror detatched when Daddy pressed the shutter during the speeches at your uncle's wedding. Luckily for us, Canon are doing the repair without charge because the fault is down to some dodgy adhesive used when the camera was built.
So by the beginning of next week all of the photographic kit should be back in working order, ready for service. We don't take nearly as many photographs as we used to when you were with us. We were like paparazzi at times, with you playing the diva celebrity, grinning into the camera, and demanding to take pictures of us.
In other good news, Daddy now has two keyrings. Yes, Daddy strikes again. The "lost" keys weren't lost after all. In fact, they never even left the house!
Love, K
Tuesday, 12 April 2011
And-a Red Rallye....mended!
We missed you on Sunday evening - we took the red rallye out for a little drive. We have got to be gentle with it for a couple of hundred miles because it's had a new engine and it needs running in. Nevertheless, it got hot enough to pop and splutter a little on the overrun, reminding us of happy days with you sat behind us in your seat cheering us on as we drove, with Charles the bear next to you wearing his seatbelt too:
"And-a Daddy Rallye goes errrrrrrrrrrr...POP!"
We will keep making some pops just for you.
Love
K
"And-a Daddy Rallye goes errrrrrrrrrrr...POP!"
We will keep making some pops just for you.
Love
K
Monday, 11 April 2011
Lost and found
Daddy was very sad this week - he has lost his house keys, and with them the keyring you bought him last year. A keyring wouldn't normally be such a big deal - but it is one of the precious few things he has that come from you, and he was heartbroken.
I know it isn't the same as having the very keyring you gave him, but in your stead, I have been out and found an identical replacement for Daddy's keyring, which immediately went straight back onto his new bunch of housekeys.
You see, we are desperate not to lose our daily reminders of you. However little they are, there are things all over the house that you contributed. There are photos, in the hall and living room and in your bedroom, there are drawings you did stuck to the fridge, your room has all your things in it. In the kitchen is a broken "Heeland Coo" fridge magnet, which we bought you from our holiday to Scotland, and which got broken when it was dropped on the kitchen floor. Even though it is broken, it is yours. You dropped it, and you're not here to drop things any more.
In the living room is the little resin model Paddington Bear you chose with Daddy at Paddington Station on your last visit with us. It was bought with money given to you by a lady at our church when you were last there. She asked us to take you to buy something that you liked, and to keep it in a gesture of her faith in the Lord to bring us all back together at the right time.
So Mr Funny is back on Daddy's keys and Paddington Bear sits pride of place in the lounge. And we wait. We will wait as long as it takes.
Love,
K
I know it isn't the same as having the very keyring you gave him, but in your stead, I have been out and found an identical replacement for Daddy's keyring, which immediately went straight back onto his new bunch of housekeys.
You see, we are desperate not to lose our daily reminders of you. However little they are, there are things all over the house that you contributed. There are photos, in the hall and living room and in your bedroom, there are drawings you did stuck to the fridge, your room has all your things in it. In the kitchen is a broken "Heeland Coo" fridge magnet, which we bought you from our holiday to Scotland, and which got broken when it was dropped on the kitchen floor. Even though it is broken, it is yours. You dropped it, and you're not here to drop things any more.
In the living room is the little resin model Paddington Bear you chose with Daddy at Paddington Station on your last visit with us. It was bought with money given to you by a lady at our church when you were last there. She asked us to take you to buy something that you liked, and to keep it in a gesture of her faith in the Lord to bring us all back together at the right time.
So Mr Funny is back on Daddy's keys and Paddington Bear sits pride of place in the lounge. And we wait. We will wait as long as it takes.
Love,
K
Friday, 1 April 2011
Missed you at Paddington today
Work took me out to Bristol today, on the 9.00 off Paddington. I arrived with about six minutes to spare for my train, but couldn't leave without visiting Paddington.
He looks quite a sad bear, all on his own during the morning rush hour. The commuters don't stop to say hello, or clamber over him to give him a hug, rub his shiny nose and pat him on the head. At that time in the morning, there wasn't even a swathe of people sat on his plinth drinking their coffee. He was all on his own.
I hope that you are ok, wherever you are.
Paddington, and Daddy and I miss you.
K xx
He looks quite a sad bear, all on his own during the morning rush hour. The commuters don't stop to say hello, or clamber over him to give him a hug, rub his shiny nose and pat him on the head. At that time in the morning, there wasn't even a swathe of people sat on his plinth drinking their coffee. He was all on his own.
I hope that you are ok, wherever you are.
Paddington, and Daddy and I miss you.
K xx
Friday, 25 March 2011
Things we have been doing
In the last two weeks, we have been:
In all that time, not one word about how you are, and how you are getting on. Sadly, your maternal grandfather appears to think he's won a very noble victory by wrenching you away from your entire paternal family for three months, and shows every sign of being willing to "bury" (in his own words) Daddy and me if we keep trying to restore those relationships.
Daddy and I are struggling to know where or how we draw the line and say "enough is enough". Neither of us wants to give up on you - but just asking when you can see you Daddy got us both assaulted, and got Daddy served with an injunction this morning.
Faced with that Mummy's sustained, malevolent campaigning to keep you apart, with the full support of legally aided solicitors, where are we supposed to go next? We can't make the court battles stop, for as long as Mummy keeps bringing them. Daddy and I have long since run out of money to pay solicitors to help you. £45,000 disappeared that way, directly or indirectly, last year - far more than Daddy actually earned last year.
We are at the limits of endurance. There is no help to be had anywhere.
So, has nothing good happened? Well, Daddy ordered a model of 70013 Oliver Cromwell for you a long time ago, and it arrived this morning, about 2 hours after the bailiffs. It should have been a happy event, with Daddy excited about your next visit and playing with it together on the model railway. Instead, Daddy is heartbroken that you are not here to see it and play with it. Your model railway is very quiet these days.
We miss you, and it appears that there isn't a thing we can do about it.
- to the hospital, for Daddy to have some tests (unsuccessful - more tests required)
- to the estate agent, to try to get Mummy and Daddy's old house sold (unsuccessful, because Mummy hasn't signed the estate agents' contract that she's had for months)
- to the police in Crewe to report Daddy's red car stolen (police think it's unlikely to be recovered - probably already been scrapped illegally and turned into razor blades)
- to Coventry, to pick up a new engine for the little red car, because its own engine is not sounding at all healthy (success - we actually left with an engine, and we have found someone to fit it later this month)
- to Court in Derby (waste of time - no closer to getting anything sorted, and the next hearing is now going to be in Bristol)
- to the police in Derby to report being assaulted outside the court when Daddy asked Mummy when she would let him see you.
In all that time, not one word about how you are, and how you are getting on. Sadly, your maternal grandfather appears to think he's won a very noble victory by wrenching you away from your entire paternal family for three months, and shows every sign of being willing to "bury" (in his own words) Daddy and me if we keep trying to restore those relationships.
Daddy and I are struggling to know where or how we draw the line and say "enough is enough". Neither of us wants to give up on you - but just asking when you can see you Daddy got us both assaulted, and got Daddy served with an injunction this morning.
Faced with that Mummy's sustained, malevolent campaigning to keep you apart, with the full support of legally aided solicitors, where are we supposed to go next? We can't make the court battles stop, for as long as Mummy keeps bringing them. Daddy and I have long since run out of money to pay solicitors to help you. £45,000 disappeared that way, directly or indirectly, last year - far more than Daddy actually earned last year.
We are at the limits of endurance. There is no help to be had anywhere.
So, has nothing good happened? Well, Daddy ordered a model of 70013 Oliver Cromwell for you a long time ago, and it arrived this morning, about 2 hours after the bailiffs. It should have been a happy event, with Daddy excited about your next visit and playing with it together on the model railway. Instead, Daddy is heartbroken that you are not here to see it and play with it. Your model railway is very quiet these days.
We miss you, and it appears that there isn't a thing we can do about it.
Thursday, 3 March 2011
Daily ways to miss you (1)
Daddy and I miss you daily - that really goes without saying. I bet you don't realise though, how big an impact you have on us. We can't have a conversation without using one of your catch-phrases. Whenever we catch ourselves doing it, it's a moment both of joy and sadness.
Our particular favourites:
"Yeah...'k" - You started saying this at around 19 months. You only used it for about two weeks, but it stuck, and now it's with us every day. "Would you like a drink Daddy?" "Yeah...k!" comes the reply.
"Check-a some emails" - a cracker from the day you opened your "laptop" for "Christmas". Before you said that, we didn't even know that you knew what emails were. But there you were, waiting patiently while we tried to get your dinosaur puppets out of their box, when suddenly you announced you were going to "jus' check-a some emails". Priceless.
"Bu..bye...BLACK...Rallye in a garage" - we now say this EVERY single time we pass the garage, just as you used to.
Joy surrounds those phrases as we recall the days when the catchphrases were created. Happier days when you spent time with us.
Sadness - immeasurable sadness that we no longer get to see and hear YOU saying them. We remember your catch-phrases and I can write them down, but we miss hearing your voice. We have been watching the videos we have of you over 2010 - your voice has grown and changed so much in those 12 months, we wonder how many new words you know, and how much more fluent your speech has become in the last 12 weeks when we haven't seen you.
We miss you.
K
Our particular favourites:
"Yeah...'k" - You started saying this at around 19 months. You only used it for about two weeks, but it stuck, and now it's with us every day. "Would you like a drink Daddy?" "Yeah...k!" comes the reply.
"Check-a some emails" - a cracker from the day you opened your "laptop" for "Christmas". Before you said that, we didn't even know that you knew what emails were. But there you were, waiting patiently while we tried to get your dinosaur puppets out of their box, when suddenly you announced you were going to "jus' check-a some emails". Priceless.
"Bu..bye...BLACK...Rallye in a garage" - we now say this EVERY single time we pass the garage, just as you used to.
Joy surrounds those phrases as we recall the days when the catchphrases were created. Happier days when you spent time with us.
Sadness - immeasurable sadness that we no longer get to see and hear YOU saying them. We remember your catch-phrases and I can write them down, but we miss hearing your voice. We have been watching the videos we have of you over 2010 - your voice has grown and changed so much in those 12 months, we wonder how many new words you know, and how much more fluent your speech has become in the last 12 weeks when we haven't seen you.
We miss you.
K
Monday, 28 February 2011
Things we like: ice cream
Ice cream has to be up there on the list of our favourite things. If we visit an ice cream parlour, Daddy heads straight for the lemon sorbet. When we found a rather nice ice cream place in Betwys-y-Coed on a visit to Wales, Daddy managed a second helping after first polishing off an extra large cornet.
My personal favourite is Ben &Jerry's Cookie Dough ice cream - great on any occasion.
You seem to have inherited Daddy's taste for ice cream. On your second birthday, you enjoyed ice cream with us whilst watching the band at the open air, which the owner of the ice cream stall gave you when he saw you watching the band in your little suit. He'd missed you two weeks previously, when your visit was cancelled.
You also made good work of Daddy's mint choc chip ice cream in Devon...
Pictures to follow....
With the warm weather coming, I hope you will enjoy a few ice creams without us. We think of you when eating ours.
Love
K
My personal favourite is Ben &Jerry's Cookie Dough ice cream - great on any occasion.
You seem to have inherited Daddy's taste for ice cream. On your second birthday, you enjoyed ice cream with us whilst watching the band at the open air, which the owner of the ice cream stall gave you when he saw you watching the band in your little suit. He'd missed you two weeks previously, when your visit was cancelled.
You also made good work of Daddy's mint choc chip ice cream in Devon...
Pictures to follow....
With the warm weather coming, I hope you will enjoy a few ice creams without us. We think of you when eating ours.
Love
K
Monday, 21 February 2011
Things we like: Handel
In 2009, Daddy and I went to no less than three performances of "Messiah" in the run up to Christmas. You just can't beat a good bit of Handel.
The down side to it is that Daddy learned a good deal of the score to Messiah whilst he was young enough to still be singing alto. These days, he still insists occasionally on singing along the alto line in the car, even though his voice is definitely NOT alto any more.
In good news, we are singing the "Hallelujah Chorus" at Songsters at the minute, and they are not going to let him get away with singing alto, so our ears might get some respite!
I asked Daddy to tell me his favourite piece of Handel. I got a list a paragraph long as a reply, so, here are some highlights for you to listen to with us, the next time we get to spend a car journey with you:
"The King Shall Rejoice" from Handel's music from George II's Coronation
The "Amen" from Handel's "Messiah"
The first part of the music for the Royal Fireworks
The quirky recorder movement in Part III of the Water Music.
At two you display signs of a natural musicality. Probably not surprising given your Grandad, your Daddy, and your uncles are all musical. We hope those around you nurture and encourage that musicality and enjoyment of music. We miss seeing you bouncing around to Farnon's "jumping bean", demanding for the band to play louder whilst marching with us and beating impeccable time for the YP Band with your pencil while they rehearse.
The down side to it is that Daddy learned a good deal of the score to Messiah whilst he was young enough to still be singing alto. These days, he still insists occasionally on singing along the alto line in the car, even though his voice is definitely NOT alto any more.
In good news, we are singing the "Hallelujah Chorus" at Songsters at the minute, and they are not going to let him get away with singing alto, so our ears might get some respite!
I asked Daddy to tell me his favourite piece of Handel. I got a list a paragraph long as a reply, so, here are some highlights for you to listen to with us, the next time we get to spend a car journey with you:
"The King Shall Rejoice" from Handel's music from George II's Coronation
The "Amen" from Handel's "Messiah"
The first part of the music for the Royal Fireworks
The quirky recorder movement in Part III of the Water Music.
At two you display signs of a natural musicality. Probably not surprising given your Grandad, your Daddy, and your uncles are all musical. We hope those around you nurture and encourage that musicality and enjoyment of music. We miss seeing you bouncing around to Farnon's "jumping bean", demanding for the band to play louder whilst marching with us and beating impeccable time for the YP Band with your pencil while they rehearse.
Sunday, 20 February 2011
Things we like: books
Daddy and I both love books. I have read voraciously for as long as I have been able to. There are many books which to me are as much childhood friends as many of my actual childhood friends.
Daddy shares my passion for books, to such an extent that when he moved his things in, we had to make a trip to Ikea to purchase new bookcases to provide adequate storage. Daddy brought more books than anything else when he moved in.
Yesterday, we popped into town to buy a box to store the keepsakes we have put aside from you and couldn't resist going into a bookshop displaying a sign advertising a closing down sale. We spent a happy half hour or so and came out with a whole box full of new books. You weren't forgotten - amongst our purchases were some for you - we hope we will have the opportunity to read them with you.
With love
K x
Daddy shares my passion for books, to such an extent that when he moved his things in, we had to make a trip to Ikea to purchase new bookcases to provide adequate storage. Daddy brought more books than anything else when he moved in.
Yesterday, we popped into town to buy a box to store the keepsakes we have put aside from you and couldn't resist going into a bookshop displaying a sign advertising a closing down sale. We spent a happy half hour or so and came out with a whole box full of new books. You weren't forgotten - amongst our purchases were some for you - we hope we will have the opportunity to read them with you.
With love
K x
Wednesday, 16 February 2011
Things we like: White Rallyes...
(Actually, that's a lie. Right at the minute, I don't like rallyes one bit. That's because all three of ours are off the road, but I am sure the disaffection will be temporary).
Daddy REALLY likes Rallyes. His is the original - crashed, straightened, and I forget how many new engines it's had in Daddy's ownership.
Daddy's Rallye is also pretty personalised. Daddy's seat is set in the rear footwell to give him room for his long legs. I can't even reach the pedals when I sit in it!
When we have been able to snatch the time, we have been visiting Daddy's rallye in its secret restoration lair to rebuild it, part by part. It is due to relaunch this year, in aid of a charity fundraiser. Daddy will be taking a lucky guest on a track day in it to raise money in an "auction of promises" for charity.
Daddy's Rallye already has charity pedigree, having undertaken various trips raising money, including Lands End to John-O'Groats, and a trip on the continent back to the Rallye factory.
It's a long way off being able to drive it yet - it doesn't have brakes, a petrol tank, a rear beam, seats, a dashboard, lights etc etc at the minute. But one day soon, it will be roaring round the B-roads and track circuits again!
Daddy REALLY likes Rallyes. His is the original - crashed, straightened, and I forget how many new engines it's had in Daddy's ownership.
Daddy's Rallye is also pretty personalised. Daddy's seat is set in the rear footwell to give him room for his long legs. I can't even reach the pedals when I sit in it!
When we have been able to snatch the time, we have been visiting Daddy's rallye in its secret restoration lair to rebuild it, part by part. It is due to relaunch this year, in aid of a charity fundraiser. Daddy will be taking a lucky guest on a track day in it to raise money in an "auction of promises" for charity.
Daddy's Rallye already has charity pedigree, having undertaken various trips raising money, including Lands End to John-O'Groats, and a trip on the continent back to the Rallye factory.
It's a long way off being able to drive it yet - it doesn't have brakes, a petrol tank, a rear beam, seats, a dashboard, lights etc etc at the minute. But one day soon, it will be roaring round the B-roads and track circuits again!
Friday, 11 February 2011
Inspiration
I have been wondering how to fill this blog with information. Today, I happened upon a blog called "A Place to Share", which struck me as I read it as a really warm and genuine glimpse into a family's life, and something akin to what I would like to put together for you so that you can find out about life in our home and our family.
I am short of photos today, but I will start with some posts of things we like over the coming days, and I will be looking forward to the day in the future when hopefully you can share your likes and achievements with us.
Love, K
I am short of photos today, but I will start with some posts of things we like over the coming days, and I will be looking forward to the day in the future when hopefully you can share your likes and achievements with us.
Love, K
Thursday, 10 February 2011
Setting the date
Since Daddy and I got engaged last year, people have been asking me fairly regularly "have you set the date yet?", and so far, the answer has been no. Although we fully expected to have been married at some point last year, Daddy and I have barely been able to lift our heads above the mountain of paperwork that surrounds a divorce, a battle over residence and a battle over finances. The idea of planning our wedding just hasn't been possible.
But this week, we have started thinking in earnest about naming the day. It is such a bitter-sweet thing for us to do, because we always wanted you to be part of the day, alongside the rest of our families. Daddy wanted you to be his best man (I was particularly looking forward to your speech - I bet you would have given away all of Daddy's secrets!).
With no real hope that the situation with your mummy will be resolved to let you be part of our lives again until you are an adult and make that choice for yourself, we have no choice but to get on with living and to name the day.
First attempt didn't go so well - the date Daddy has suggested to our minister falls in the middle of a 3 week planning inquiry that I am working on. So for now it's back to the drawing board.
This doesn't sound like much of an occasion to blog about to you, perhaps? The significance for us is that even though we have to endure the pain of doing it without you, it is still the first positive thing we have been able to plan since the court proceedings started in January 2010. After over a year of living on a knife edge, we are taking the first steps to building something for the future: the family and the home that we pray daily that you will have the opportunity to grow up in.
Love,
K
But this week, we have started thinking in earnest about naming the day. It is such a bitter-sweet thing for us to do, because we always wanted you to be part of the day, alongside the rest of our families. Daddy wanted you to be his best man (I was particularly looking forward to your speech - I bet you would have given away all of Daddy's secrets!).
With no real hope that the situation with your mummy will be resolved to let you be part of our lives again until you are an adult and make that choice for yourself, we have no choice but to get on with living and to name the day.
First attempt didn't go so well - the date Daddy has suggested to our minister falls in the middle of a 3 week planning inquiry that I am working on. So for now it's back to the drawing board.
This doesn't sound like much of an occasion to blog about to you, perhaps? The significance for us is that even though we have to endure the pain of doing it without you, it is still the first positive thing we have been able to plan since the court proceedings started in January 2010. After over a year of living on a knife edge, we are taking the first steps to building something for the future: the family and the home that we pray daily that you will have the opportunity to grow up in.
Love,
K
Wednesday, 9 February 2011
For a rainy day...
Over the course of the last year, life has been so hectic that Daddy and I have managed to end up with paperwork everywhere, and all of it needs sorting and putting away. I had a good session at it last night while Daddy was out at band practice, and found amongst the papers the statement for your child trust fund, untouched since the Government endowed it with £250 when it was opened.
It is a small gesture, but I have set up a standing order to put aside your pocket money each month. It will go directly into your trust fund, where it is irrevocably yours. Daddy is going to do the same. It won't make you a fortune, but maybe when the time comes for you to claim it, it will remind you that we were thinking of you each and every day that we were apart.
Love
K
It is a small gesture, but I have set up a standing order to put aside your pocket money each month. It will go directly into your trust fund, where it is irrevocably yours. Daddy is going to do the same. It won't make you a fortune, but maybe when the time comes for you to claim it, it will remind you that we were thinking of you each and every day that we were apart.
Love
K
Tuesday, 8 February 2011
Fond memories
Daddy and I spent a happy half an hour looking back at fond memories last night. Daddy has been uploading the tapes from the camcorder onto the computer and backing them up. None of the footage is edited, but last night we watched the tape of "Christmas" in Chellaston.
Gorgeous footage of you opening your presents, and playing with your new "laptop". The video captured the moment you announced you were off to "check-a some-a emails".
I have had to shut the door to your room where the laptop now sits, untouched. That is too sad for words. But we enjoyed reliving those moments, thinking about you and wondering where and how you are.
Daddy has made copies for Grandma and Grandad, and for the family in Chellaston, and I have posted them off to share the joy in otherwise sad circumstances.
We miss you so much.
K
Gorgeous footage of you opening your presents, and playing with your new "laptop". The video captured the moment you announced you were off to "check-a some-a emails".
I have had to shut the door to your room where the laptop now sits, untouched. That is too sad for words. But we enjoyed reliving those moments, thinking about you and wondering where and how you are.
Daddy has made copies for Grandma and Grandad, and for the family in Chellaston, and I have posted them off to share the joy in otherwise sad circumstances.
We miss you so much.
K
Monday, 7 February 2011
Until we can meet you by Paddington Bear...
You are far away from us now, and we can't see or talk to you. Until we meet again, I will write for you on this blog so that when the time comes for you to seek us out, you can find out something about who we are.
Each year we will be by Paddington Bear on 6 January at 19.00, so that you will know that you can find us.
And if you want to get in touch again, when you are old enough, we will be thrilled and delighted to come and meet you by Paddington Bear, or anywhere else you choose.
With love
K
Each year we will be by Paddington Bear on 6 January at 19.00, so that you will know that you can find us.
And if you want to get in touch again, when you are old enough, we will be thrilled and delighted to come and meet you by Paddington Bear, or anywhere else you choose.
With love
K
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