The Bond

Hallie was always a nightmare to get to sleep. The only thing that seemed to make her nod off was having her tiny hand wrapped around one of my fingers. This resulted in many a night, lying on the floor with my arm poking through the slats of her cot, losing all sensation in my arm, whilst she gripped a finger tight. I had to use all the manual dexterity of a bomb disposal expert to extricate my finger from her vice like grip without waking her. Any sudden movements and the inner spirit level that was attached to her trigger switch would be activated and I would suffer an explosion of needles and pins in my arm for another few hours.

She stayed like that even as a toddler. She'd fall asleep in her own bed, then wake up in the middle of the night, crying, wanting to come in beside us. It would possibly be frowned upon by so-called childcare experts but exhaustion and not wanting to wake up Aden resulted in her being in with us, her little hand wrapped around my finger once again.

When I was working late, I would get home in the early hours and the first thing I would do in the darkness of our bedroom was check to see if Hallie was in there. If she was, I'd crawl into the tiny area that Hallie and Laura had afforded me in our super king-sized bed, she would automatically sense that I was now there, and in her half-sleep a little hand would reach out, take my hand and begin to sleep peacefully.

Little did I know that sometime in the near future these roles would be reversed, and it would be me that needed the comfort of her little warm hand in mine to help me get to sleep. It is wonderfully reassuring to know that when I wake up in the middle of the night, I know that they are there. And in the morning, when I wake, I can bask in their warmth and cherish their peaceful, serene faces until they wake up with a sleepy smile and a kiss. 

There is no better feeling. We will always be holding hands. And there is nothing that will ever break that bond.

The Present Tense

Aden recently got rewarded at school for being an all-round good kid. In turn I rewarded him for being so with some credits for his video game. His attitude is something that I'm, I mean we, are incredibly proud of. Both of them are inspirational. When I thought I couldn't be any prouder, he stuns me with this:

"Thank you for my V-Bucks Daddy".

"You're welcome, Aden. Well done, you deserve it. Mammy would be proud".

"Is".

"Sorry?"

“Mammy IS proud".

"Of course. You are so right. Mammy IS proud".

We could do a lot worse than looking at the world through our children's eyes. It's just so pure and untarnished. I love that he corrected me, and I love how he corrected me. It was instant, unthinking, natural. Any shame I felt for making him feel that he had to correct me was replaced immediately by an overwhelming pride in the way he calmly said it and more so how he views life without his Mammy. It's incredibly comforting to know that he considers her present tense still. It isn't just Aden, Hallie, when she is drawing and painting her images of our family, which she often does, always includes Mammy.

May this view never change. 

The Dream

I was having a dream. This in itself is unusual of late as I haven't been dreaming as much as I used to. And I used to dream a lot. Fantastic, vivid, otherworldly dreams, that I would recall in fine detail. The detail would be so clear when I woke up and fade quickly after waking, so I would tell Laura as soon as I could. It used to amuse Laura no end. When I say amuse, that's what I read by her usual, head shaking comment of "you're a weirdo" when I recalled any of my night stories. So, in retrospect, maybe she actually wasn't amused after all.

Last night not only did I dream, but I dreamt of Laura. In my dream I was somewhere else, somewhere that was similar to our home but not our home. My dream was taking me in a completely different direction until I turned around in the hallway, that wasn't quite our hallway, and Laura was standing there. She was real. Present. In dreamworld high definition. The sight of her was so unexpected and so real that it took my dreaming breath away. She had that look on her face, the half-smile, the looking right through me eyes that said, "you're a weirdo" but instead what she said was, "I've got to go to work". I paused for a second, still a little stunned, then I moved towards her and placed my hands gently on her arms by her side and ushered her slowly backwards into our living room that wasn't quite our living room. She gave me a quizzical look as I guided her in silence toward to sofa, the half-smile still there but apprehensive like I had a surprise for her and/or bad news. I couldn't speak. I simply couldn't find the words as I sadly looked into her eyes. I gently held her arms until she felt the sofa at the back of her legs and she slowly sat down and I sat beside her, sitting on the edge of the sofa facing each other. I took her hands and looked into her eyes and with all my strength I whispered, "you can't go to work, you aren't here anymore". She gave me a smile but behind her eyes I could see the sadness intensify. Sadness, loss and confusion. The sadness was so intense that I couldn't bear it any longer, so I moved closer, put my arms around her and held her tight. I could feel her head leaning into my neck and I tilted my head toward hers. Her softness and her warmth infused my senses. The lump in my throat was causing me swallow constantly, preventing me from saying anything that I wanted to say. Tears were blurring my vision as a feeling of utter hopelessness welled up inside me. All the while as I held her tighter, I felt her fade away. The palpable feeling of her actual presence was dissipating in my arms. 

And then she was gone. 

Leaving me alone, on the edge of the sofa, my dream arms falling to my sides, strings cut and useless. My dream mind unwilling or unable to bring her back. And then I cried. I cried with the same unrelenting tears and heart-breaking pain as I did when I realised that she had drawn her last breath 154 days previous.  

Then I woke up. I woke up in a panic, thinking, expecting that I'll find the kids awake and worried and upset. But no, both were still gently sleeping either side of me. With a lump in my throat and tears in my eyes, I made sure they were okay and fixed the bedding over them, only too grateful that the devastating sound of my heart breaking again was confined only to my dream. 

The Time Traveller

I'm travelling through time. My eyes closed. My breathing steady. It's 11.04pm, 31st October 2022.

It's also the year 2006. We've been out in Edinburgh celebrating buying our house in Broxburn. That night as we turn the corner at the bottom of the cul-de-sac, we have a little excited childish moment of joy; holding hands as we jump up and down with a little dance, and we look at our new little semi-detached house.

It's also 15 years ago, on this very day, we're in New York and I've just proposed to Laura with the ring that I designed for her. It's so cold that we are practically wearing all the clothes we brought with us. We loved NY. 

Then we're lying on her sofa in her bright sunny council flat in Gilesgate. We've only been seeing each other a few weeks. We are watching telly. We are happy. 

We are in maternity. Laura has just delivered our baby boy by C-section. Fall At Your Feet by Crowded House is playing in the background. I have made the decision that his name will be Aden Brady Lenaghan as Laura is being indecisive again. The naming is also an attempt to distract Laura, and to calm my nerves, as our baby hasn't made a sound yet. In the background the staff are working feverishly on him. Seconds seem like minutes, minutes like hours. He then starts crying. And we do too. 

It's Laura's 30th birthday and we're in the beautiful Maldives. I've pretended to go to the toilet after dinner when I've actually sprinted back to our villa to get the Gucci watch that I've bought her as a gift. 

Then it's 2005. Laura has thrown a sicky from work and we are going to Keswick for the night. I'm there for work, expenses paid. I do the bare minimum and we spend time being happy in a place where no one knows us. 

It's 2012, we're in Paris on our 2nd anniversary, eating the world's most expensive croque monsieur on the Champs-Elysees. 

Then I'm in the bathroom, I can hear Laura reading the kids a bedtime story. It's Cops and Robbers by Janet and Allan Ahlberg. She's reading it in the voice that she only used for reading to the kids. It's her unique reading to the kids voice. I'm wishing I recorded it. I stay and listen for a while.

It's 2016 and we are having our first child free night out-out in ages. We go into Durham and have a curry. One drink later we decide to go home to our child-free house and chill on the sofa. We are home before 10pm. 

We decide to find out what sex our second child is. We get the scan at Mothercare in Team Valley. Aden is with us. It's a girl. He's excited, as are we. There are many names. We decide on Hallie Willow a week before she is born. 

We're "in between houses", so had to move into the flat above The Market Tavern. I'm in the office and Laura is in the living room of the flat directly above me. I hear her whooping and come running downstairs to tell me we've got the first choice school for the kids. 

It's 2010, we're on the first part of our honeymoon in Vegas watching Phantom Of The Opera in The Venetian. It is spectacular. We are both fighting jetlag. Laura watches the show with her head on my shoulder. 

We've driven 100s of miles looking at wedding venues only to find that there's a perfect place two minutes round the corner from where we live. It's exactly what she wanted. 

Then it's New Year 2022 and we are in Ramside Golf Club. Laura looks amazing given the year she has had. The kids are with us, we are surrounded by friends and having a great night. We bring in The Bells with the usual hopes, dreams and wishes. We tell each other that this will be a better year and have a four-way hug with the kids. 

We're back in 2005 and we are with staff and former staff on a night out in Durham. No-one knows that we are seeing each other. Laura is sitting at the table across from me. I decide to send her a sneaky text. Her phone audibly pings. I look at her. She looks at me. We try not to laugh. Everyone else looks at us. I think the secret may be out. 

I get home from work and Laura tells me she's pregnant again. I give her a hug and tell her to go sit down while I put the kettle on. We wanted them close together. Hallie is born 1 year and 11 months after Aden. 

It's the 31st of October,11.52pm, 2022. I'm in bed between Aden and Hallie. They are gently snoring. My heart is so full of love for them as I watch them peacefully sleep. Tonight, I will hold Hallies hand while I go to sleep as it was Adens turn last night. They are blissfully unaware of this alternating habit. I turn to face her, take hold of her warm little hand and give her a gentle kiss on her forehead.

I then close my eyes, keep my breathing steady and go time travelling with Laura once again.