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They say that life is full of highs and lows. Sometimes it goes well and other times less so. As I write I find myself at a rather low ebb with not much wind in my sails. And, as I’m in a thoughtful mood, I thought I would relay my experience using an analogy ~ my life is a hot air balloon trip.
When Jules and I set out in our married life it was like we climbed inside our brand new basket, fired up the pristine burner, and as the envelope filled with hot air we set off on our life adventure filled with anticipation and possibility.
As time went on we filled our basket with lots of things, e.g. friends, house, careers, holidays, and being part of a Church community. It wasn’t too long before we decided to embark on our biggest adventure by having children.
Harry and Bob landed in quick succession and we found ourselves firing up the burner a lot more to keep us in the air! But, being young, we took this in our stride and carried on looking at the horizon and planning adventures for the family of four.
Fast forward a decade and we have been blown off any course we might have planned. You see, Bob, our youngest, is a beautiful boy who has special needs, learning difficulties and a suite of behaviours that would be enough to make the Parson, Archbishops of both York and Canterbury and the Pope himself swear, lose patience and challenge the very core of their faith.
This has meant the we’ve been constantly drawing on our propane fuel tanks, pulling on that burner chord 24/7, and, instead of travelling at a comfortable height, admiring the view, and heading for a particularly marvellous destination we’ve been at about 2 foot above the ground trying to avoid crashing into trees, cows, fast moving cars and anything else that would be in our way.
Fast forward another 5 years and our burner is a bit worn out and, given the extra space needed for Bob, we’ve had to throw stuff out of the basket so we didn’t completely crash land in a heap. Although I genuinely don’t resent it I do lament the fact that I am no longer able to play an active role in my Church, have an ambitious career, have wonderful holidays [note to reader: never moan and whinge in front of me about your imperfect holidays – you will get no sympathy from me] , play musical instruments in the house [Bob hates that], have interesting hobbies, have a full and enjoyable social life, be spontaneous, and make the most of opportunities and gifts that God has given me. Basically, I have just enough energy and capacity to make it through the day by trying to look after my family and earn a living [note to self: maybe that’s good enough].
In the darkest and stormiest times I’ve felt like turning the burner off and ending it all rather unceremoniously. Other times I’ve been more pragmatic and considered getting Jules her own hot air balloon so we can have one each and share Bob. Not what we would want for our marriage but maybe a practical survival option at least. I do feel completely battered by the constant strain and pressure of keeping the balloon just in the air, bumping along the ground, enduring storms, avoiding obstacles, whilst trying to remain “British” by being pleasant and positive to those around me.
It hasn’t all been doom and gloom. We have friends, family and carers who come alongside us in their balloons to help. Sometimes Bob travels with others for a short period of time. This is great for him and also lovely for us to sample a different life. Although, we do choose to remain tethered to the other balloons so we are not too far away!
Bob can be really funny, happy and a delight to be around. There are also fragmented moments when it’s just me, Jules, and Bob [and Harry too when he’s not in his own balloon] and it’s lovely and peaceful. The sun is out and we are basking in the sunshine and enjoying the gentle breeze. Unfortunately, we have learned from experience that thunderstorms are often just over the next hill and come about far too often.
The most difficult journey is yet to come. Whilst perhaps in the early years we may have dreamed of big adventures and realising wonderful visions of where we would be in later life I’m just hoping that, at the end, we have the softest possible landing.
Because, you see, there is an inevitable end to our balloon journey. One day the burner might permanently pack up, the propane fuel will run out, the balloon could irreparably tear, or the basket may break up. All I want is when this happens, i.e. we’re too old, too broken or have shuffled off this mortal coil, Bob can safely transfer to another balloon for the rest of his journey knowing he will be loved and looked after. I’m totally devoted to and love my unique chap and I guess that is the only vision I want to realise now.
Here’s to the rest of all our hot air balloon journeys – may they be full of sunshine, gentle winds and beautiful vistas.
Alex Clayton, Jan 2020
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