Today marks one month since the boys and I moved into our forever home suitable for Brendan Bjorn’s complex care needs. I don’t think it has quite sunken in to my mind yet as I’m kept so busy still trying to unpack, clean, care, and simply be.
It’s been 4 months since Brendan Bjorn had his life-saving spinal fusion. However, he remains bedridden and unable to venture outside of his home because he is now on another waitlist, this time for a new custom moulded wheelchair seat suited for his new shape post surgery. His pressure sore has finally healed over as of a few days ago. Now it’s waiting for the seating that will enable him to experience the world outside of his bungalow. No child should have to wait for such a required healthcare item.
As I sit here taking a break between duties to write these thoughts, I considered my own history of moving from one house or town to another. By the time I was 5 years old, I had lived in 4 different houses in 3 different towns due to my dad’s job. By the time I was 10 years old, I had moved again, now a total of 5 different houses by that age. I don’t know if that’s an unusual amount of moving because that’s just my reality. It is just the way it happened. By the time Brendan Bjorn was 10, we had moved house 8 time…and that fact breaks my heart. Even so, today I take such comfort in knowing the moving stops here and now. This is it.
This will thankfully be the last home he will know.
This will also be the home where he will, some year, pass away and leave Declan and I surrounded by the most beautiful, loving memories of the boy we both so deeply love and admire.
And as I look around at this moment, that realisation fills me with a peace that is indescribable and likely only silently, innately understood by other parents who are on this journey with their own precious child.
One month on and no more moving.
A place of new beginnings.
A place of endings.
A place for life and love.
What an amazing feeling of contentment having this home brings to me.