When my daughter Lily died in June 2009, she was seven years old. In the days which followed, a friend sent me a letter describing the 'strange yet beautiful journey of grief' which she had experienced following the loss of her baby son. At the time I struggled to understand her words. But in the two years since Lily's accident, I have slowly come to appreciate how, within the dreadful abyss of a mother's grief, there can be a strange luminosity that shimmers in the midst of all the pain. An awareness of a spiritual reality beyond the grasp of our rational intellect, and a blossoming of love which connects us to the entire universe.
We all live and all must die, and losing my beautiful daughter has been an excruciating reminder of that. It also reminds me of the great comfort to be part of the immense rolling cycle of nature, which carries us in its wild and loving yet tempestuous arms, from cradle to grave and back again, and again, and again...
In this blog I chart the waters of my family's ride through the tumult and the calm, the ugly and the exquisite and yes, even the tragically comical. I'd love you to take the ride with us.
