I am a mother of two children, CameronandErin, their names described by a friend as a symbolic intertwining of connectedness, a closeness nurtured from the warmth and tightness of our family unit. I am the mother of a son, who in the second week of January celebrated his birthday with the exuberant innocence of a 10 year old - 28 friends wielding a baseball bat to celebrate his achievement of reaching double figures. And I am the mother of a daughter who on the 17th January would have been celebrating her eighth birthday. But Erin will not be present at her birthday party. Her spirit is left blowing with the wind, her voice calling over the rush of the water in the silence of the Lions Bay mountains on what was the Unnecessary Trail.
My husband, Michael, and I are on a journey and Cameron will accompany us for much of the way. As a couple and as a family of four we have been on many, many journeys across the world together - with adventure and joie de vivre in our backpacks, and a fearless spirit to face the unknown. This journey however, is not one we have chosen and the unmarked road ahead is not one we willingly travel. But we have no choice; the course of our lives beckons new bends and mountains, ones as an ordinary family - just like yours – we never thought we would have to walk.
Death in our western culture is awkwardly negotiated and grief stoically hidden. How do you approach a grieving mother? What are the words to comfort? Can one ever reach into the recesses of a broken heart to describe the pain of the fracture? And can one ever reconstitute and be whole again? I am committing to chart the depths of our journey – not because I want to (it is indescribably hard) but because I have an overwhelmingly strong sense that this is what Erin is compelling me to do. It will be a medium of healing for me, but the imperative from Erin is that she wants her life lessons to live on through the articulation of the journey of the road ahead.
I do not know how far I will get or the strength I will have for the journey but I know she is with me for each step of the walk, laughing, cajoling (as I did her) and guiding. It also may help you as I articulate what my and our family’s needs are and how you – friends, family or strangers – can support us on our voyage. As I journey, each month I will unpublish the previous month's postings which will symbolize the mile markers passed and the progress on our journey. Erin will clearly let me know when the time to record this part of life’s journey is done.
This was to be the ‘Anatomy of Grief’ but her voice prompted me that this will be the ‘Anatomy of Grace’ – an intimate insight into the evidence of grace in our lives. Every day, every single day, there are touches of grace – evidences of people, memories and beauty – and it is these profound moments and ruminations which I wish to share. Please reach out to us directly at Erin’s first email address [email protected] to provide encouragement and thoughts.
Breath by breath, step by step: I invite you to walk, cry and journey together with us along the road of slow healing of ourselves and our family.
My husband, Michael, and I are on a journey and Cameron will accompany us for much of the way. As a couple and as a family of four we have been on many, many journeys across the world together - with adventure and joie de vivre in our backpacks, and a fearless spirit to face the unknown. This journey however, is not one we have chosen and the unmarked road ahead is not one we willingly travel. But we have no choice; the course of our lives beckons new bends and mountains, ones as an ordinary family - just like yours – we never thought we would have to walk.
Death in our western culture is awkwardly negotiated and grief stoically hidden. How do you approach a grieving mother? What are the words to comfort? Can one ever reach into the recesses of a broken heart to describe the pain of the fracture? And can one ever reconstitute and be whole again? I am committing to chart the depths of our journey – not because I want to (it is indescribably hard) but because I have an overwhelmingly strong sense that this is what Erin is compelling me to do. It will be a medium of healing for me, but the imperative from Erin is that she wants her life lessons to live on through the articulation of the journey of the road ahead.
I do not know how far I will get or the strength I will have for the journey but I know she is with me for each step of the walk, laughing, cajoling (as I did her) and guiding. It also may help you as I articulate what my and our family’s needs are and how you – friends, family or strangers – can support us on our voyage. As I journey, each month I will unpublish the previous month's postings which will symbolize the mile markers passed and the progress on our journey. Erin will clearly let me know when the time to record this part of life’s journey is done.
This was to be the ‘Anatomy of Grief’ but her voice prompted me that this will be the ‘Anatomy of Grace’ – an intimate insight into the evidence of grace in our lives. Every day, every single day, there are touches of grace – evidences of people, memories and beauty – and it is these profound moments and ruminations which I wish to share. Please reach out to us directly at Erin’s first email address [email protected] to provide encouragement and thoughts.
Breath by breath, step by step: I invite you to walk, cry and journey together with us along the road of slow healing of ourselves and our family.