Welcome to my first (for a long, long time) blog post. I have been intending to write this post for several weeks but haven’t been able to find the words. Apparently, I have a lot of preconceived ideas about what a loss related blog should be…
I wanted this blog post to be about Finley. About our son. About my reason for being here. I wanted to tell you his story. But the words wouldn’t flow.
I started writing as I have, many times before. I started writing about those memories from the days up to and after the 2nd August 2009. The most important days of my life. And yet I found I couldn’t write about them. In the trying I realised just how much things have changed. Our relationship has evolved.
It’s changed.
I’ve changed.
I feel like I’ve been a million different people since August 2nd 2009 – and some of them I really didn’t like very much at all.
And it stands to reason that if I have lived a million lifetimes in those (nearly) nine years, then our son has lived a million and one. So, it feels right to write about this lifetime, right here, this one we are living now.
I really rather like this current Mel, who has spent the last few days laughing when telling anybody and everybody about our holiday of a lifetime – which ended up being far more adventurous than I thought it would be. My carefully chosen beach front paradise in North Queensland was more like a cross between Indiana Jones, Crocodile Dundee and Twisters…. (showing my age, a little bit there… if you are under 25 they are films!).
Our first few days involved cyclones, landslides, the very real risk of crocodiles swimming down from the rainforest in the newly-created-cyclone-rivers and entering our little bit of paradise ocean in front of our chalet, spider webs taller than me and man eating snails (ok the last bit is a teensy bit of an exaggeration, but there were definitely large amounts of eggs from venomous snails!!!!)
Previous editions of Mel would have a) not been able to go to a country on the other side of the world, b) tried to control and plan every aspect of the journey – therefore realising that April in North Queensland is Cyclone season, jelly fish season and that North Queensland contains more human eating animals per square metre than anywhere else in the world, c) cried when her plans went to pot d) gone home.
I know that Finley brought with him so many gifts and lessons to learn. I kind of thought that, 9 years on, those gifts would have dried up, but actually he remains my reason for living, my reason for loving – and apparently, he also handed down survival skills.
There was a time when I associated Finley with pain and sadness, sorrow, regret, guilt. I have worked hard over the years to find the silver lining, to regain my belief that everything happens for a reason, to incorporate Finley within my faith and slowly, slowly those tough feelings have lessened. There was a time when I worried that I would forget Finley. That if I stopped hurting, I would stop loving.
But I have found that even in the joy, the humour, the excitement, I can find the traces of Finley.
And even on the other side of the world, in the middle of a 3 week, very busy, holiday of a lifetime traces of Finley were there.
He was in the beautiful sunsets,
He was in the tender moments of seeing my daughter dressed as Cinderella walking hand in hand with her Daddy by the ocean,
He was in the tears that streamed unashamedly down my face alllllll the time because Disneyland was so magical,
He was in the courage it took to land in a new world in a cyclone, and get up the next day to go dance in the rain with my daughter,
He was in the tears that streamed upon seeing old friends for the first time in 3 years and in the tears that streamed upon saying goodbye again,
He was in the depths of the deepest sadness and the heights of the happiest high.
He was in the song of the birds, and the roots of the trees.
He was in the effort it took to climb back up from the waterfall, and in the stillness floating in the great barrier reef.
He is also here. Here in every word, in every page of this website, in every action, in every brave, new step.
So, welcome to Finley’s Footprints – the space where we walk each step together.