Today I met with a MNetter who has been through the tragic loss of their child, and I found so much comfort in talking to her that it got me thinking about the last 17 months.
A while ago, I found myself on a journey. At the beginning I didn't know what the destination of this journey was, and I wasn't sure I wanted to start walking, but start walking I did.
Along the way, I met some wonderful people. People who are walking journeys of their own, but who took the time, and gave me the encouragement to help me face my own journey. At times, there were joyful places, places I never knew existed. Sights so wondrous, I never thought they were meant for me to see. Other times I got lost, and sat down in despair. But these people helped me up and gently encouraged me to keep going.
I faced forks in the roads, and I turned to my friends to help make a decision, even though I knew the ultimate choice had to be my own. Along the way, I lost some friends and although I was sad and frustrated at the time, I realise now that their paths had strayed too far from my own. I couldn't see them anymore and perhaps they didn't feel comfortable watching me, anyway.
I felt disheartened many times when the road was too bumpy, or too uphill, too windy or too dark. But out of the darkness, I could feel comforting hands at my back, urging me to keep going. I met people who I felt were putting obstacles in my way, but I tried to remind myself that they weren't doing it to be unkind, they were just doing what they saw fit.
In October last year, I reached a really tough part of the road. In fact, things became so confusing and distraught, that I wondered if I too, had come to the end. After a while though, the faces of my children, family and friends were waiting ahead of me, and I knew I must go on, even if it hurt to put one foot in front of another.
I am currently walking through a quagmire and my feet are feeling too tired to keep going. I'm not sure where my path is leading me anymore, but sometimes I worry that it is taking me back to the beginning of the road. That could be seen by others as a good thing; after all I didn't want to start this journey, did I?
But deep down I know I'm not going back, because that starting place doesn't exist for me anymore. Along my walk, I've suffered blisters on my feet and callouses on my heart. My head is foggy and tired and the light in this place is dim so that I can't presently see where I am going.
But today, I met with one of my new friends who has been walking a similar road as mine. Our paths crossed today, and together we held hands and looked backwards at how far we had travelled and we cried together and talked about the good and and bad patches. My friend is slightly further along this journey, and her strong mind and kind words helped me to turn back around and take a little step in the right direction.
I still don't know where I am going, none of us do. But I do knowthat wherever I am headed I go there with Beatrice tucked safely in my head and my heart. I wouldn't have started this journey without her, and I know from looking back that she carried me lots of the time with her quiet determination and innocent love. I owe it to her now to make the rest of my journey and carry her with the same love and determination.
If you are one of the people who has read Beatrice's story at any point, and has offered us even the smallest of your best wishes, please count yourself as one of those people who lifted me up out of the mud, helped me regain my balance and take a shaky step onwards. I couldn't have done this without Beatrice, and without all of you. Thank you 