Being home in Manchester for Pesach has been the best tonic after months of almost intolerable stress, feverish anxiety, endless frustrations and dashed hopes, battling for justice in the seemingly intransigent Austrian courts.
This week with my family, (physically at least) distanced from the never ending heartache, has been such a blessed, special time and provided a much needed rest and brief respite from a freakish nightmare where morning never seems to dawn. The unreserved love and support from relatives, neighbours, friends and even total strangers that have read and heard about this immense tragedy, has energised me with renewed strength and buoyed me up to face what will undoubtedly be more difficult months ahead.
To say I have missed Sammy and Benji does not do justice to the excruciating agony I must endure every day I have been wrenched apart from the two precious little souls that are as much a part of me as the air I breathe. The heavy ache deep inside never goes away; their absence leaves a gaping void that nothing else can fill, however busy and distracted I try to be. Wherever I am and whatever I do, nothing could ever make me forget and nothing ever dulls the pain.
My next visit is scheduled for Sunday but right up until the last minute I can never be certain that it will not be cancelled on a whim. I have pored over all of my hundreds of photos and videos, praying for my little angels, desperate to see their now sad withdrawn faces, once a perfect picture of health and happiness, light up once more, trying so hard to imagine the twinkle in their eyes recaptured and restored for good.
My suitcase is laden with new toys and treats, my heart brimming with eternal love for my adorable children together with willed optimism for our uncertain future. Fervently wishing that this journey will be the one to lead me to Sammy and Benji’s own safe homecoming.
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