There I Was: Here I Am

It’s been thirteen long years since my life changed forever. Some thought I would never make it, and neither did I, for sure. When you hit the lowest point in your life and your world is shattered in a matter of seconds, you feel that no one on this earth could ever feel so much pain and heartache like you are going through. It is days like today, though, as a voice disturbs me from my deepest thoughts and asks, “Are you okay?” when I know that my life is worth living. I glance up and look at a handsome young man, who is driving. He has such a striking resemblance to another young man whom I had once sat beside and loved very much. It’s my grandson, Naylor, who is driving me today, and he looks at me, and smiles with the same shy smile as his dad. It’s uncanny how much he resembles my beautiful son, Naylor - even his voice and his laughter. If I close my eyes, sometimes it can make my hair stand up on the back of my neck. My heart feels like it could burst with pride and love for him, knowing how he has grown from a little boy who seemed so lost after losing his dad, and leaving his home to come and live with me and his granddad. At that time, he was feeling as messed up as me, and I’m looking at him today as a beautiful, strong, well-mannered young man, with so much going for him in life. This is what makes me want to live again. The poison that once ran through my veins is long gone; I am no longer lost, and I make the best of every day, along with my husband my beautiful daughter, Phyllis, my son, Alfie, and all my other grandchildren. It’s a special day, today. It’s my son, Naylor’s birthday so my grandson and I are on our way to the cemetery to take flowers and meet the rest of the family. Today is a bit different, though, because instead of sitting at my son’s graveside all day, I decided to go somewhere that has always held a piece of my heart. Over the last 12 years, I have spent hours deep in thought with it on my mind; it’s a war memorial for the soldiers who never returned home. Me, my grandson, Naylor, and our good friend, Terry Doe, went along. It was a place that I wanted my grandson to visit as well. As we pulled our car into the car park, I felt a thud in my heart, knowing that I was about to witness the loss of so many other mothers’ sons. I watched as Naylor carried a tribute of white roses that I’d brought to lay in remembrance of all the courageous young men and women, and it’s times like this that you know that you were never alone in your deepest time of grief and pain. I walked toward the entrance, and my heart was beating so fast. I felt an overwhelming love for every other mother who had lost their child, and my heart was broken for all those who didn’t return home. I walked around looking at the hundreds of names on the walls, of all the brave young men and women who gave their lives for us so that we could be strong and free, and it made me feel that I had no right to dwell in self-pity for my own loss. As I looked around at all those names, it put my own life into perspective. How serene it felt to share their glory, and the power that they have left on this earth for us. I felt so strong walking around reading the names of all the loved ones who had sacrificed their lives for us and given us freedom. This is a place I will hold close in my heart, and one that I will visit when feeling low; it truly inspires the weakest mind to go forward and be strong, and it serves a lesson, even in grief, of a cherished loved one. You may suffer pain, but don’t give up on your loved one’s, family or friends, or your own life. I laid a tribute of white roses and said a silent prayer. Every day is a blessing to me now, and my heart goes on. I want to live, and as my son, Naylor once said to me a week before I lost him, “Live everyday like it’s your last”. That’s what I try to do - to make every day of my life count. As I’ve said in the book, my husband and I are rich - not in money, but with our beautiful children and grandchildren, and life itself.