“You must face annihilation over and over again to find what is indestructible about yourself.” — Pema Chodron

I do not regret the way I have handled life since the accident. I would not change most of it. I do, however, still have a hard time with some of the things we lost along the way. Part of the cost. There were things that mattered to me that were dropped by the wayside. On the side of the road. In the very field that caught a helicopter in its embrace. I would not change being there to support my husband. I would not change being the glue that helped hold our family together. I would not change that we have fought this fight together. That we are surviving.

To survive sometimes we had to drop stuff along the way. When we are drowning, extra baggage does not help us to stay afloat. When we are lost in the desert or in the wilderness carrying things that are not necessary seems frivolous. Sometimes even hopes and dreams can feel heavy. So as we survived, as we found our way through the wilderness, as we learned to navigate, I was forced to let go. I was forced to surrender many things that mattered to me and still do. Many of my dreams and my hopes. I think sometimes I mourned them as we travelled, without even knowing I was mourning. I just felt a bit heavier each time I lightened the load.

It is starting to feel like we are ready to start picking things up again. Like we are close enough to a refuge that we can relax. Again. Just a little. We are starting to dream. I am going back to school. I have been away too long. I have missed it. In the weeks leading up to the accident, Chris and I talked about me going back to university. About me building upon my degree. We were dreaming of Victoria. I was thinking about my next steps. About my career. Our children were young, but we were starting to plan. We were going to work to make it possible. When Chris was home from flying, just days before the accident, we visited Victoria. We drove passed the university. We were excited. The future felt like it was forming. It seemed a bright picture. We could just make out the images through the rays of the sun.

It was such a great holiday. Maybe life gave us the best days because it knew what was coming. A little reprieve. The calm before the storm. We were in a good place. Our son was entering preschool in the fall. Chris had a flying job he loved. Our daughter had just celebrated her first birthday. I was talking about going back to school. I had just done my first half-marathon with my sister. I felt strong. I felt certain. We were looking forward to the future. To our future. If felt promising.

It never happened. So now we are working on new dreams. We are living in a different future. In this future, we are finally starting to dream again. We are looking forward to what is before us. We are making plans. We are not just surviving the days. It is starting to feel like there might just be some promise. The promise of better days. New celebrations and milestones. Ones we can feel. It is time. So here I am. Three years later. Finally now, back at school. I walk through the university grounds, and I feel incredibly lucky to be there. It makes me feel happy. I feel like I belong. Like it is where I am supposed to be. I have not felt that feeling in a very long time. I am taking a first-year creative writing course. Just one course. I am excited though. It feels like a pathway. A step. Something to pull me forward. To pull us forward. A change of direction. A different path. Maybe similar to the one we dreamed of so many years ago. Trauma and its aftermath held us in its grasp for a long time. So very long. It still affects us to this day. It has not completely let us go. I feel like maybe it never will. Not fully. Not completely. We have changed. Trauma has left its scar. A reminder that some days will be hard. I do not feel like I am living in it though. At least not at this moment. It feels like I might be at the edge of the echo. On one of the smaller ripples. Not so close to the rock that smashed us. The one that almost took us down with it, as it sank to the bottom.