by Alison | Oct 19, 2014 | .
As I sit bathed in the early morning sunlight I fell battered and bruised. Burning eyes and a dense sadness constricts my heart. Staring out over the water to the island in the distance I should feel joy at just being alive, and healthy in such a beautiful place.
Last night I sobbed as if my world was at an end. Wounded by words and lack of. I did not think that I could hurt that much anymore – and I did which was a surprise! Realising that I can break more…
I know that the dawn of the 20th is on my horizon and that these weeks of October are huge, unspoken obstacles that I need to face and climb over annually. But it’s not just about October. It is about losing my children. Not just my blood children but all of them. Adopted children of the heart will always have three parents. Two blood and one other. It is always being the other that is tough and comes with no guarantees. With blood children love is unconditional and it is only the journey of life and the choices made that can tear it asunder. I hope that the unconditional love I have shared is enough and a future will unfold. I cannot get over, and on, with my grief and unmentionable sadness. I have lost both my blood children and their unconditional love.
Now I watch other journeys from a different spot and yearn for what was mine.
As I remain in my chair and the sun warms and spreads I’m gently nudged to look and listen. The birds are singing, my immediate world is waking and a new day is on its way – for better or for worse. The gentle breeze wraps itself around me as it moves past and I hear Aidan whisper ‘ hello mother’
I have fought and struggled so hard to still be here, and standing. Living and breathing each day. I cannot allow grief and words to strike me down and destroy the brittle thread that anchors me – or I will not survive. I might look solid but my will is fragile.
My life is full of wonderful people. Friends, family and adopted heart family.
– It is full of ‘moments’ to be remembered
– It is full of sunshine and passing days
– It is full of memories that sustain me
– It is full of laughter and tears
So I need to stand tall, breathe the sunshine and be still within to find my strength and fight, so that no one can destroy me, except me (or my body!)
One of the greatest lessons I have learnt is that I can only be who I am. I can only do my best and if it isn’t your best well I’m sorry about that. The universe never gave me a book on life as I left the womb. But I have always tried to live my life, to care for others, to give of myself, to stand in my own shoes, to be independent and always, to pay it forward. To give my children a good life and to be with them when they suffered and to comfort them when they had to leave.
I’ll toast the evening of my life tonight. I’ll welcome the dawn tomorrow. I’ll cry and rejoice for Aidan and for all those who love him… and then I’ll soldier on.
To my boy, I thank you for being you, for being so open with that love, for trying to shelter me in my dark days when we lost Laila, for pushing me to journey on, for our move, our new life, our laughter and warmth, honesty and for just loving me as your mom.
I miss you every day but carry you in my heart – always. X
by Alison | Jul 5, 2014 | .
I sometimes sit and write and then scrunch it up and throw it in the bin, yes, I still write on paper ! Reason being is that I think the general public get tired of hearing about how sad I am or how difficult life is. Even though I say and write the words I still get told that time will heal, or that I must toughen up, or that it will get easier.
The truth is that it will never get easier, or that time will never heal me as I will carry this with me till I no longer breathe on this earth. But I am toughening up…
I attended a conference recently and one of the speakers spoke of losing her ability to speak when her son died. My initial thought was why did I not crumble, collapse, lose my speech, go to bed for months and just be a heap? Because that is not who I am. I get up each day and face what lies before me and have done this since my father died when I was 16 and my mother took to her bed.
So I think I toughened up in 1975.
Not knowing what the future holds is a blessing and so I forged ahead and collided with sadness again and again and again. Grandparents, mother, daughter and son.
But what joy and fun I have had in between and continue to have, and what incredible friends and family I have and have gained along the journey without which I would not be able to stay in this world.
When a fire sweeps though the land, everything is scorched and bleak. Months and years pass and the beauty slowly emerges and joins with the darkness showing its splendor. This is how I feel.
My darling boy showed me his darkness, his courage, love and his light. My darling daughter was magnificent in dealing with her suffering, pain, darkness, love and understanding. I owe so much to both of them for being my children and for teaching me so much and for sharing their love and journey with me.
It is because of them that I do get up everyday as they would expect this from me, to always be there for them and for those that I love. So I will celebrate each day and allow myself to cry, be sad, miss them and be miserable yet still smile, laugh as loudly as I can, drink a few and remember my wonderful children.
To Laila and Aidan – my love always
your mother
by Alison | Mar 16, 2014 | .
A colleague, who lost his toddler to a rare and painful illness, and I were sharing our stories and discussing how many parents lose a child/children to illness and how difficult it is to witness.
When Laila died I was crippled. Aidan was a beacon of light in my darkness and we became tightly bonded in our pain, grief and sadness. He was eleven at the time, young in years but old in spirit.
We moved forward, tightly bound together, and his beautiful soul guided me and gave me the strength to keep getting up each day. Having Aidan to care for spurred me on and kept me grounded and we cried, laughed and slowly moved onward.
Over time the tightness of our bond slowly unraveled, slackening, yet flexible, strongly connected and firmly joined. We found a rhythm and had fun together when we could and I watched my son mature and grow with unbounded pride.
When Aidan was 17 he talked to me about how Laila was not often on his mind much anymore and if this was okay with me. I remember smiling at him and explained to him that that was fine and normal. She was his sibling and his life was moving in different directions but that she would always be in his heart and I would carry that grief as her mother.
I thought losing Laila was the worst thing that could happen to me in my life but losing Aidan broke me. It left me not knowing who I was anymore. I could not find my fit in life. Losing both my children made me feel that I was no longer a mother, left me feeling very alone and not fitting into life as I did before, not sure what I was anymore and that I no longer had a role. I felt adrift with no anchor.
I did not want to move on, to feel joy; I just wanted to be in my pain and just be.
So hard to explain, so different losing a child but having another still with you, so inexplicable to comprehend that both my children had to die, so unfair having been a single mother, just so awful to lose my boy.
But I have always been supported by friends and family and as much as I wanted to collapse into a heap and disappear from life I could not. My heart adopted children needed me, my beautiful daughter in law needed support in her loss and my friends and family wanted me to stick around.
I’ve come to the realisation that a part of my life will not move forward, it’s stuck in the time of when my children were alive, and it’s also something I will never truly be able to deal with but will just have to live with it.
I try hard every day, not being able to verbalise this as it wears the people around me down so, I keep my pain close and I soldier on and try and see the positive in each day, to have a laugh, love and enjoy those around me.
Then out of nowhere a thought, a remark, a memory, a photo, a celebration will make me crumble and take me back to the beginning, the memories fresh and focused, my grief as stark as it was then.
Once again I will find some energy and dust myself off, get back on my feet and stand tall, take a big breath and look at the morning and greet the day.
To my two beautiful children,
To all the mothers who have lost their children, and to the fathers, I send you many blessings.
The mother
by Alison | Jan 9, 2014 | .
Today Laila Vaun would be turning 19.
A few days ago I was chatting to our 16 year old and we were laughing as I was telling her that as she walks her path there will be times when she remembers the words of her folks, she will silently acknowledge as the truth of life unfolds that we spoke many a true word.
Thankfully our youth shelters us from believing anything untoward in the future. We dream and aspire but refuse to take advice having to trip and fall ourselves before believing.
One of the pitfalls of youth is the selfishness and hurt that is bestowed on the parents as they find themselves and mature into adults. Some of us never do, others do it early and a few are late bloomers.
When I look back on my life I am grateful that I had no idea what lay before me. Turning 16 seemed a natural and obvious occurrence but little did I know that it would be a turning point in a life to follow of much tragedy, sorrow and pain.
Even as the highway of my life unfolded it never entered my realm of thinking that anything more could happen or that I could endure more.
Yet, I kept travelling those miles, at times my vehicle of life was fully laden, at other times empty and parked at the kerbside, sometimes just idling or switched off, or taking off again back on the road following its white line and path with an eye on the horizon.
I’m grateful to the mechanisms of life, that we accept and embrace the abundance and the hope of the day without pondering on what will be, so that when we are struck down it is a surprise and unexpected.
We bleed, we hurt and we bundle our pain up tight and store it in a corner of our heart and then pick ourselves up from where we left off.
Never the same, with a limp, a half smile and we try, we try so hard to make it all right for ourselves and those around us. I’ve lost, and lost again and keep losing but I gain much along the way.
I feel as though my life’s blood seeps slowly out of me, not fast enough to end my days but drip by drip, quietly puddling on the ‘other side’.
How lucky I am to be loved. To have friends and family. Their love and affection offsets the agony and puts a smile on my face, creates a cane for my limp and is a gift I never believed I would receive.
So bless you all, I am extremely grateful and words do not do it justice.
Happy birthday my sweet, sweet Laila
With love as ever from your brother who resides with you and your mother.
I look up and try to reach the sky and my children in the sun.
That same day I heard good ole Rod sing and these lyrics are how I feel about my kids – all of them – You’re in my heart, you’re in my soul… xxx
by Alison | Jan 5, 2014 | .
Driving to Brisbane I saw a sign that said ‘ life promises you a soft landing but not a safe passage .‘
It made me smile and sad simultaneously – the truth of that saying is reflected in my life.
Just as I relax and start to feel secure my life raft is struck by an almighty wave, it lurches wildly, is tossed around like a feather being blown on the wind, then gains speed as it begins its downward journey surfing the wave.
The question becomes, how far am I to fall this time …
Suddenly the wind changes and my raft rocks violently and bounces into the trough. Glancing up I can see clouds racing as does my pulse. The crests of the waves crash over me as I bob along clutching to the sides, knuckles white with desperation, praying for calm.
Suddenly it is eerily quiet and anxiety recedes. My buoyancy returns. Sunshine beams down on me and I can feel that warm glow spread through me and brighten my soul. My splintered heart is bathed in glorious light and all hurt is momentarily pushed aside.
Thank goodness for our human spirit, for the sun that shines and the moon that rises, for the friendships and caring and for our unconscious umbilical cord of hope.
May your pain be momentarily cast aside this Xmas while you are bathed in glorious light, in optimism and hope. Surround yourself with good, with positivity, with joy that binds us, to enable you to find the love and kindness that we seek in others.
Lay down your cross, your hurt and pain for today. Waken with the dawn and rejoice in the birth of a new day for we cannot change the course of the world but we can stand tall in our universe and reach for the stars.
Our absent friends and family reside in peace and harmony and my wish is the same for us left behind.
Love, peace, hope and laughter
X Alison
25/12/13
