Bravery

It’s been a strange few days.

We’re surrounding our daughter with as much normal as we can muster at the moment – fashioning a bubble of ordinary to cushion her recovery after the pretty terrifying ordeal she put us all through last week.

I’m taking her to London tomorrow, accompanied by her eldest sister. We leave on the early train, and will find breakfast at Paddington station. A day of sightseeing, sushi, and sunshine. A visit to “M&M World” may be on the itinerary too.

It’s difficult to watch your children find their way in the world sometimes. Difficult to stand by and watch their mistakes. Of course you are there to catch them, and lift heaven and earth to right their mistakes. You can’t steer their journey too closely though – without learning loss, you learn nothing.

We wonder if loss might be at the heart of recent events. School years are finishing. Long time friends are departing. Friendship groups are already fracturing, and new bonds being forged with those that will remain – before events have unfolded.

When your friends are your world, it must be so hard to say goodbye.

I know her pain only too well. As adults we sometimes have to make decisions and live by them. It never gets easier, and we often wonder what might have been.

We are expected to be so brave. It’s not easy. Not easy at all.

I’m reminded of Mrs Darling’s words about Bravery in Peter Pan:

Mrs. Darling:
There are many different kinds of bravery. There’s the bravery of thinking of others before one’s self. Now, your father has never brandished a sword nor… nor fired a pistol, thank heavens. But he has made many sacrifices for his family, and put away many dreams.

Michael:
Where did he put them?

Mrs. Darling:
He put them in a drawer. And sometimes, late at night, we take them out and admire them. But it gets harder and harder to close the drawer… and he does. And that is why he is brave.