Torture made perfect
Two years had passed and once again Christmas held no memories despite the photo prompts. The children had a good time that year judging by the look on their excited faces. Oh how remarkable – there’s someone who looks just like me. No, it can’t be, I wasn’t there. What do you mean I was? I’m sure I can’t have been ... I don’t know whether this was a side effect of the numerous ECT treatments that I had had by this stage or a result of my severe depression. It is academic perhaps, since both reasons are equally valid. I keep looking at the photos with a sense of wonderment. Was I really there? The children look happy and normal, but their life was far from normal. Their acceptance of the situation is very understandable. Nothing had really changed. Mum was at home, but for how long? At least stability was maintained by the wider family, their consistently loving and hard-working father and our faithful friends. After Christmas we went to Center Pares. I wish I could remember it. I know that it was one of the children’s favourite holidays. After their life in Bangkok, they were definitely water babies! Simon had been superb at diving, doing forward flips off the diving board at age four. Rebecca, less adventurous than her younger brother, was also good at diving and swimming. Stephanie was by now swimming with her head above the water as well as underneath. Of course Jonathan had been too young to do anything other than enjoy the water in Thailand, but now Center Pares suited them all. We returned home in time for New Year and even held a party. It was something we loved to do. Phil would make a Thai curry for as many as turned up and we would organise lively party games. I am sure I put on a very good front. I could do that.