Three years22 April 2013
When your world is ripped to pieces, you have got to keep moving. One foot in front of the other, just keep moving. It is way too painful to sit still, to ponder, to breathe.
It's been three years since Jude's unexpected departure. Four hours after we had woken up to our different World and all the well-meaning and administrative people who had briefly stepped into our different existence had departed again, we were left on our own and had no idea what to do with ourselves. All we knew is that we could not sit still and we could not sit at home. So we got into our car with the dogs in the back and headed away from the city towards the West Coast and nothingness. We took a random turnoff towards the sea and walked and walked and walked - numb and stunned and broken and unbelieving that life could be so cruel or that we could find the will to fully live again.
And now three years have passed since that terrible day. We woke up today to two beautifully alive little girls - but the light, the feeling, the atmosphere were all the same as that morning and I marvel that we have survived. How could it actually be? We drove up the West Coast again and walked with the dogs and breathed in the sunny autumn sea air. We are no longer numb and stunned and broken but still very unbelieving that life could ever have been so cruel. Some days it is harder than before to find the will to live, most days are just a little less colourful than before, every day is varnished with the consciousness that Jude should be here, growing bigger and smarter, yet he isn't.
Most of all though, I am scared of forgetting this beautiful and busy child who catapulted me into the rollercoaster of motherhood, who changed my life completely, completely exhausted and energised me and who taught me all about selflessness. I so wish he could have met his two beautiful sisters who continue to teach me oh so much.
But we keep moving, one foot in front of the other, day by day. You have got to keep moving.