So my darling hubby took the burden that I passed onto him and was the rock the L needed on Thursday. My daughter had been that rock for him on the night of the assault. I had spoken to my son on Thursday night as I needed to hear his voice, and I explained about the reason I had stayed away. He told me it was the right thing to do as he would have got upset about me being upset.
Last night the first thing he did was give me a hug as he was worried about me. He gave me the biggest hug, as if I needed it more than him. I probably did. I didn't want to let him go. He towers over me at 6 foot 5 and I feel so small against him, and yet I am not - large and reasonably tall at 5 foot 7. But he is still my baby, even at 27, he is the child I fought so hard to raise.
Physically he is on the mend - luckily for us when he was knocked unconscious he fell sideways and landed on the grass verge rather than the path or the road. Luckily for us, he only got kicked in the back of the head once, as our good Samaritan called out and started running towards the attacker and scared him off. Luckily for us, he only had to stay in hospital for a short while.
Outwardly my son looks okay, if you didn't know about the assault there wouldn't by much to let you know. He has a lump on the back of his head, a little bruising coming out on his jaw, a pretty nasty headache which is on the mend, nausea and dizziness. Sometimes he feels like it can't get this thoughts straight. He is having some flashbacks when he tries to sleep, but not all the time. He is doing well, or so he says.
Until I look into his eyes I almost believe him. His eyes can't lie. Maybe only a mother can see what is hidden there. Maybe only this mother who has seen this pain before. It breaks my heart. He has fought so hard to be where he is in life. He suffered 12 years of bullying at school. He suffered years and years of anxiety attacks. He has fought so hard to be the adult he is. This beautiful independent and gentle soul. I look into his eyes, shadowed by dark rings, I see his body language and I know, this has hit him harder than he is letting on.
I feel a deep sadness in amongst the relief that he is okay, it could have been far worse. But in my heart there is sadness, I try and push it away, but it remains. So I will bury it deep for he doesn't need to see. He only needs to see my love. I will keep the tears for here at home.
In time we will all heal, it has hit all our family hard. His sisters, his dad and me. While the low-life that did this to him stole his stuff, he also stole a piece of this family.
Crime is not new to us. In the last two years my middle daughter has been broken into twice, once while they were out and once while they were asleep. They stole her car the second time. I have always been thankful that they were not hurt. Stuff can be replaced. But the fear remains in my daughter and grand-daughter's hearts. Over time it is buried deeper, but it is always there lurking.
Will it be the same for my son? Will he be able to walk the streets at night on the way home from work and not be tense. Will he assess every stranger as a foe rather than a friend?
There are many ways that our glass is half full, but I am having to work a little harder today to keep it there.
Thank you to all my blogging friends for their kindness and for leaving caring comments - each one means so much to me.