Almost

We almost lost our daughter last week.

This is what keeps going through my head as I hold her little, warm body close. Grateful, so grateful for her continuing presence. For the miracle that was. Today and yesterday almost weren't. I am emotionally and physically shaken to my core. As are the whole family. We are now all too aware of the invisible line between normality and tragedy. I am deeply awake to my mother self once more, to the primal biology of the fact that my children are now and always will be, flesh of my flesh. A fact that can be dulled by the daily drudgery of mothering, the complacency regarding the blessings that my children are to me, to us all.

Last Thursday our youngest, a dainty two and a half year old ringletted rascal of a girl fell out of her upstairs bedroom window onto the concrete path below. I got the call at work from a dear friend who was having coffee at our house with my husband. "She's bleeding out of her mouth and nose, but she's crying.I'll come and get you."

I put down the phone and started to run home, hands held in prayer, praying, praying.

The path had a pool of blood. And there in the kitchen, my baby, so small and battered and bloody in her daddy's arms. Crying for me.

I held her. And held her. At home. In the emergency room. all night in the narrow hospital bed. The next day and night. I held her and breathed my prayers. Knowing how close we came to never being able to hold her again. Holding another mothers story in my heart of a daughter who fell from a tree and didn't make it. Showing her little videos of her and her siblings playing on the I phone knowing that they might have been our last memory. I held her as she slept and slept, knowing that the child who emerged from this tragedy might not be the same one as before. My family have been through the trauma of severe brain injury with my cousin only two years ago. And she was so much smaller. Falling onto concrete. Without a helmet.

They did test after test. Woke her every hour. And beyond possibility there is no sign of internal injury anywhere. No brain damage. No broken bones. No teeth gone. Just a huge black eye and chin. A swollen face. A large infected cut in her mouth and round her teeth. Nowhere that will visibly scar. And no emotional trauma for her.

I feel sick each time we go down our road. Each cookie cutter house with the same two upstairs windows. The same concrete path. And I know, though it sounds too corny to be true, that the only way she survived that fall is that she was cushioned by angels wings. And we have been surrounded by them too in the form of friends and family, in our days of recovery since, as we help heal her body and our parent souls, from the nightmare of almost.

Metta meditation of loving kindness

Thank you for the support and interest in our circle of Deep Compassion. I know of two other circles and many individuals who will be joining us. I have already started receiving cards which I am compiling to give to the mother in mourning. (Please see my previous post for more information)

Yesterday I baked a rosemary remembrance cake with love, which we will eat after the circle. Rosemary has a history of being used for funerals, and to clear the mind. (For the recipe see Nigella Lawson's Feast)

We will be practicing a Metta meditation at the women's circle.  This is a Buddhist way of developing loving kindness and deep compassion. First we start with ourselves, which is often deeply challenging, before opening it out to those we love, those we do not know, those for whom we have challenging feelings, and then all beings.

I first practised this in Japan, in the mountains near Kyoto, on a ten day, silent Vipassana meditation retreat. We also did it at our wedding ceremony. It is a very powerful, yet simple meditation, to be recited aloud or in your head. I found this version which was composed after another tragic incident, and thought it appropriate.

A Metta Meditation
For the tragedy in NYC, DC & PA of September 11, 2001

May I be well, safe and peaceful.
May I be free from the suffering of fear, anger and ill will.
May I find forgiveness for the inevitable harms we bring to one another.
May I cultivate lovingkindness, compassion, sympathetic joy and equanimity.
May I live in peace and harmony with all beings.


May our families and friends be well, safe and peaceful.
May they be free from the suffering of fear, anger and ill will.
May they find forgiveness for the inevitable harms we bring to one another.
May they cultivate lovingkindness, compassion, sympathetic joy and equanimity.
May they live in peace and harmony with all beings.


May all other persons in our lives be well, safe and peaceful.
May they be free from the suffering of fear, anger and ill will.
May they find forgiveness for the inevitable harms we bring to one another.
May they cultivate lovingkindness, compassion, sympathetic joy and equanimity.
May they live in peace and harmony with all beings.


May all the victims of this tragedy and their families be well, safe and peaceful.
May they be free from the suffering of fear, anger and ill will.
May they find forgiveness for the inevitable harms we bring to one another.
May they cultivate lovingkindness, compassion, sympathetic joy and equanimity.
May they live in peace and harmony with all beings.


May those responsible for this tragedy and their families be well, safe and peaceful.
May they be free from the suffering of fear, anger and ill will.
May they find forgiveness for the inevitable harms we bring to one another.
May they cultivate lovingkindness, compassion, sympathetic joy and equanimity.
May they live in peace and harmony with all beings.
.

May all beings be well, safe and peaceful.
May they be free from the suffering of fear, anger and ill will.
May they find forgiveness for the inevitable harms we bring to one another.
May they cultivate lovingkindness, compassion, sympathetic joy and equanimity.
May they live in peace and harmony with all beings.

A Women's Circle of Deep Compassion

What can I do?

That was my first question. A good friend approached me almost immediately she heard the news - you're tapped into a large mother's network in the area, what can we do?

I felt blank. Empty. In complete shock. Helpless in the face of a tragedy so large, so local, so raw. We all did.

Yesterday my blog page had 240 visitors. Writing it was scary - would people find it tasteless, me writing about such a raw subject? But it seemed to touch a chord with many. And it moved me on in my own process of grief.

I have been asking local mums who are church goers "what are the arrangements". I attend church things in support of the local community here, at sad times, but I am not a church attendee.

But I do lead womens circles. And it is women who are needing to share their feelings of sadness, shock, and deep compassion. Both women in the local community, and those who live further afield but have connections to the area, either geographical, familial or simply soul connections.

So a plan has developed (thanks to a night of not much sleep due to a hot, cross, teething baby).

Tomorrow morning will be a Women's Time of Deep Compassion. 

At 11 am, tomorrow, Friday 19th November, I would like to invite you to add your focused awareness, love and compassion. Take a moment to remember Una, her beautiful daughters, her family and friends, and her husband, and his family and friends. Widening your circle of love and deep compassion for them all.

Please attend my house if you can and would like to (RSVP please). Or gather a circle of women together at your own. Or take a moment whilst sitting with friends having a coffee.  Or at your Jamie Oliver Party (I don't want to steal your attendees Bree!) or just by yourself. Spread the word to as many other women friends as you think would be interested.

1) Light a candle if you can
2) Take a moment to breathe deeply and mindfully
3) Sit in awareness/ prayer/meditation for a few minutes
4) Perhaps take time to make the gifts (see below) together, or share those you have made already and brought
5) On extinguishing the candles, each person sends a wish/ hope/prayer for Una, if possible speaking it aloud.
6) It is always nice to open and close a women's circle by holding hands and closing eyes, perhaps singing together, but only if you feel comfortable doing this!


And a gift...

A friend at her motherblessing was given a beautiful handmade book, where each of us contributed a page. I would like to do a variation partly on this, and partly on a conventional communally signed card. A pack of mother-blessed, "angel"/ "inspiration" cards for her to keep with her journal, or on her mantle piece, or handbag.

If each person who wishes could make a "postcard": 6" x 4" (standard photo size), just single (not a folded card). On one side might be a photograph, drawing, collage, piece of mounted sewing, a quotation, message, symbol, a word, a prayer, a poem - a gift of hope/love/peace from your heart to hers. Something to light her darkness and add a new, brighter thought or image into her days.

On the other side please put your name at least, and perhaps your contact details or where you live, so that if ever she feels herself alone in this world she can phone, text, call in, drive past your house, look at a map and know that someone out there cares and that she is not alone.

Please mail me these cards (to arrive for the end of next week - email me for address), or scan them in and email them and I will print them off and put them onto card.

I will compile the cards in a beautiful folder/ envelope and get them to her next week.

So 11 am PROMPT tomorrow, Friday 19th November. Start arriving from 10.45, we will be finished by 11.30. I am not intending for it to last more than half an hour, as I know people will have to disappear to collect children and do nap time.

Please do bring any prayers/ poems/ reflections etc that you might want to share at this time.

And do bring cake etc if wanted. We will of course have tea and cake afterwards for those who do not need to race off.

I look forward to welcoming as many of you as possible to the Pink House tomorrow - please do RSVP by text/email.

Practical note:  I am planning it for a Friday as then a lot of mothers have children in school or playschool. I feel it is appropriate for babies to be there. Toddlers too (if they can have a favourite toy/ book/ food to keep them quiet for a little that would be great.) I would be concerned about older children asking questions that mothers may be wanting to avoid, but they are welcome to play upstairs.

The grieving mother soul

For Una, and all who grieve,

I send you a prayer with every breath. I cannot begin to comprehend your pain, the scale of your loss.

The storm winds of the mother soul howled around this house last night, and every other house in the area, the tears of God raining down upon us as we battened down our hatches and sent continual prayers that you are finding peace and comfort somehow. We are counting and recounting our own blessings with every prayer. Wishing we could transfer them to you.

Words cannot begin to express the sense of deep, deep sadness that every mother and father in our community feels at this moment. We hold our own, dear children closely to us, as though we can immunize them and ourselves from suffering and pain through our tiny, repeated act of love, wishing, wishing that this would bring your children back to you.

We wake to a blue sky, the rays of sunshine promising hope. But the mood is dark and sombre. The usual school gate chatter is gone. Even the playground is eerily quiet. We are united in your pain: we are all one.

We want to talk but talking changes nothing. Nor does the news. It is like scratching an itch, it momentarily makes things feel better, and then worse. The facts are not what we want. We seek to find a way through the shock, the senselessness, the destructive possibilities of the human spirit. The knife edge of normality which we unknowingly walk along every day and which disaster can shatter in an instant. As I feed our chickens and empty our bins, I wish you the soothing tedium of mundanity.

The mother soul is grieving for one of its own. Know that we are united around you, though you cannot see us or may not know us. We hold the space for you, for you to be as you need, in this moment. We open our Madonna's cloaks, fall into their soft folds, let us hold you and croon you a lullaby to soothe you into sleep and the momentary forgetfulness that it will bring, let us wail together, let us wash you clean of your pain in our tears, let us feed you and hold you as you cry and scream and rage and then lie silent.

I pray that you might find life after death. Someday, somehow.

With love, deepest love, dear Una and all your family.