Finleys Footprints

The blog hop over at Stillstanding Magazine this week is called The Journey. <br/>

2 years, 9 months, 7 days and 15 hours ago my life stopped. It just stopped. I woke up from a general anesthetic and was told that my son had died. How do you move on from that? How do you recover? Well I can’t speak for anyone else, but for me I didn’t move on. Perhaps, some people would consider that I have not recovered. Part of me is still back on August 2nd 2009 at 6.13am.

The other part of me, well that has done it’s best to get on with life, a life that is very different from what it was. I can barely remember what life was. It is also a life that is very different from what could have been. I can barely remember what could have been either. For that I am grateful – it make what is a whole lot less painful when it is just accepted for what is.

So what is?

I am an author. I always wanted to write a book and Finley gave me a story. I was so proud to get the first printed copy of After Finley. Why? Well, because it means that Finley will never be forgotten. Books have a longevity not gifted to many of us. But After Finley is also selfish of me… it is my memory. It means that every time I read it, quote it, or show it to someone I am reminded that my son was real, physically, beautifully real.

I spend my evenings helping other parents. I see inspirational stories daily. I won’t ever again be able to live my life in naive ignorant bliss. I am fully, totally, sometimes painfully aware that life is short, things I don’t understand happen to people who don’t deserve it and sometimes, just sometimes miracles do happen.

I am aware that the journey, my journey to this point had to happen this way. I have been given the experiences and skills needed to live my life the way I always wanted to, though I never knew it. I have an understanding of concepts that three years ago were alien to me. I have a sound belief system that gives me peace. I know wholeheartedly that my son is a big part of my life, in a way that is healthy and right for me.

I see my son in the sun when it shines through the clouds, in pebbles and in insects, in words and in photos. He is a memory but more than a memory.

I am a mother with a part of her heart in the clouds and a part of her heart in the earth. Thankfully just over a year after Finley was born, his little sister Twinkle was born. She has shaped our life too. She shows us every day that it is ok to laugh. She will know her brother and he will live on through her too.

I am on my journey – not only StillStanding but still taking baby steps forward, with my family in my heart.