In 2016 our family was struck by unexpected tragedy. Our three children were injured, our youngest didn’t recover. He was only 5 years old. We are swallowed by grief. I developed PTSD as a result of the accident and my son’s death. This is my space to process the darkness.
I keep thinking about a poem by Antonio Machado. It’s beautiful in Spanish, but loses some of it’s magic when translated.
Caminante, son tus huellas
el camino y nada más;
Caminante, no hay camino,
se hace camino al andar.
Al andar se hace el camino,
y al volver la vista atrás
se ve la senda que nunca
se ha de volver a pisar.
Caminante, no hay camino
sino estelas en la mar.
Traveler, your footprints are the road, nothing more;
Wanderer, there is no road, you make the road as you walk it…
When you look behind…there is only the wake of the sea.
These are my footprints as I walk through grief and child loss. These are Samuel’s footprints. They are the echoes that remain of his life, written down before they are washed away by the rain.