A restorative yoga pose called child’s pose has become my płace of refuge. Many hours spent here. The body intuitively wants to turn away from the world. Folding down over the knees. Upper body resting on the thighs. Forehead coming to rest on the floor. Eyes closed. Arms down by my side. Sometimes soothing, sometimes not. If the monster is sleeping, my mind quiet and still enough, I hear my own words that I would tell Jason at difficult times. I knew that I should act on them, try to find the energy to get myself together, back to the yoga studio. I had stopped going. I had become so weary from forces at home. Expectations of one another broke the few remaining frayed threads of marriage. Common words to Kelsey “ I’ll be fine love “ were becoming less convincing. The day Kelsey came home to find me curled up on my bedroom floor, unable to get up, unable to pull out of it for her, was a horrible moment for me. I felt weak and defeated. I didn’t want Kelsey to see me this way. I didn’t want her to worry over me. I needed her to concentrate on trying to figure things out for herself, to look after herself, both of the girls, to learn how to live in their changed world..a world without their brother. She lay down on the floor beside me. Holding onto each other looking into Kelsey’s worried face I felt such an immense surge of love and fight for her; for all my children. I knew right there and then that I had to change my circumstance, change my crippling surroundings if not for myself but for them. I could only imagine how difficult it was for them. Everything had changed. Even how they saw me was foreign to them. For the first  time in their lives they saw their Mom on her own. This is not how it is. This is not Mom. Where is J …it is always Mom and J. This was their only view of me. A huge shift in their world.

” A family is like a body. When a family loses a loved one, it is as if they have lost one of their limbs.”

After this experience I began to feel a strange sensation. A presense of something unexplainable. This feeling began to radiate throughout me. Communicating to me from somewhere deep. No conscious thought or reasoning. It was a clear, honest, organic, full-on sensation telling me that I would not physically survive another bleak winter and beyond in these barns and the house. A visual intuition of me slumped in a corner of the barn or my room appeared. I would expire, cease to exist through some sort of natural occurrence. I don’t know how, but I felt it. Not self-inflicted. Just fade away. I had never felt a feeling of certainty like this. It was as if every cell in my body already knew this before I did and was trying to communicate this knowledge to me. A gentle nudge. A whisper.

The repetitive daily tasks of going from the barns to the house was killing me. Trying to keep my gaze looking down so I wouldn’t have to see the lifeless sad window, no face, no wave. Knowing what I have to open the door to. No life. Rooms that held my family are now filled with profound sadness. When in the barn working, I still have the feeling of such urgency, my ears still on full alert listening for Jason until my brain remembers that Jason has died. Dimness. The house makes a sudden sound, a seizure, I am running to it when the weight of the world comes crashing down upon the sudden realization that it can’t be Jason – he has died. I just knew that I could not continue this way, my body would not continue if I didn’t self-care. I did not want my girls to find me expired, slumped in a corner in the barn or my room. This premonition strangely wasn’t alarming. The feeling felt calm, solid, expansive. When in conscious thought I was very distressed about leaving my daughters. To be far away from them was going to be hard. Thankfully both girls have amazingly supportive boyfriends that have been there for them all along and knowing that these exceptional men love my daughters…makes it possible.

Six months later with an opening in the storm I made the jump. Blindfolded, numb, into the arms of the universe. Taking me far away from anything familiar; the constant triggers. Trusting the soul. Deciding to survive. The heart’s gaping wound well bandaged and protected. Praying no one will bump into it. Leaving who mattered to me…no words. We were all so brave saying ” Goodbye ” to one another. A supportive friend said “Spread your wings Fiona. Fly! ” I was literally throwing myself to the universe and seeing where I would land. Surrender to the universe, trust it, and see what happens. It is the only choice I have. With my children planted in my heart, knapsack on my back, purse strewn across my chest I crossed the gap between ramp and plane and headed to my seat.