It is still dark, the morning star is in front of me holding down the night until the day is ready to shine. The birds are singing their morning chorus to welcome in a brand new day. Day and night with their simple patterns have both shocked and held me as I have gone through the traumatic experiences of my life. After Jess passed on I remember the waking moment as being a haze, a buffer zone where no conscious thought existed, just milli seconds in length before the over eager mind came charging in to remind me of my reality and my loss. During that time, more than 15 years ago I’d get up, drag on something respectable and gather our dogs, Lily, Tinks and Jasmine and head to the park just down the road. They loved it, chasing around and delighting in new smells while I sat on a bench above the little stream and watched the sun rise to see another day push me further away from the last time I held my little girl. Caught between gut wrenching grief and the wonder of a new day. Many mornings I was awash with tears, devastated that life had dealt me this blow, how F’ing unfair! After some time my attention drifted to my dogs and how this adventure was the highlight of their day, simplicity at its finest. Once my sadness and tears had worn themselves out for the moment, my thoughts went to Ethan, asleep in his bed at home, just 5 years old. I would think of waking him up and his soft sweet little body and gentle face, his curiosity and capacity for life. Slowly I felt my strength gathering. The dogs in the meantime had finished their adventure and were sitting waiting for their second best moment of the day… breakfast. I gathered myself and walked back home to begin a new day. 

In times like this all you can do is keep moving, putting one step in front of the other. Trusting that as you move forward, one day just maybe the first thought of the day won’t be your overwhelming loss, unable in that moment to believe it to be possible. But also to move forward for others who need you and who you need so very much. As humans, we are not immune to loss and trauma, it is part of life and when it happens, it takes all of our reserves to access our deepest strength and keep moving forward just one step at a time. 

There is no right or wrong way to process loss or trauma, be kind to yourself, be patient, take small steps and you will keep moving forward. Trust that one day the heaviness and pain will ease and the days will get brighter.