“If ever there is a tomorrow when we’re not together…there is something you must always remember. You are braver than you believe, stronger than you seem, and smarter than you think. But the most important thing is even if we’re apart…I’ll always be with you.” A. A. Milne (Winnie the Pooh)

In the times they will remember, our children will always live in the after. They will not know the mother I was before the accident. They will not know the father Chris would have been. Their world won’t feel as safe and secure as it did in the days prior to it all falling apart. In those carefree days. Before the worry and the stress entered our lives. Before things fundamentally changed. Instead, they both understand what trauma means. They have seen how it affects those who inhabit its world. They have lived in it with us. Though we have tried to shelter them as best we could, there is only so much one can do. We had to live it. We had no choice. Neither did they.

Through the years that have followed, we have worried about them. We have always known it would touch them. We are not robots. We are people who feel. Though this is a good thing. Though I would not want to live any other way. Watching their parents struggle through the hard times is tough on little minds. They cannot intellectualize it. They cannot rationalize it. They can only feel it and try to make sense of it in the ways of a child.

When the accident happened our two children were very young. Our son had just turned three and our daughter had recently celebrated her first birthday. Now they are seven and nine. They are big kids, finding their way through school. Making friends and figuring out their place in the world. They are able to express big ideas and more fully grasp the idea of almost losing their father. They know about many of the losses and they, in many ways, grieve them with us.

Our kids have done incredibly well, considering. Considering their mother struggled with anxiety in the years after the accident. I was so afraid of losing them somewhere in the chaos. Considering their dad had to fight his way back from the bottom. Considering our many failures and our many triumphs. The grief we have felt and the courage we have had to conjure in order to slay the many beasts. A life lived in the aftermath of trauma is a tricky business. It is constantly shifting in a multitude of ways. If one is not adaptable and extremely stubborn it can knock you down and keep you down. Many of our worst nightmares have come true. We ended up living in a different world. We have to acclimatize to it. We have to allow ourselves to be moulded into something new. Change has to be accepted. We cannot dig in our heals.

E and C have been there for all of it. And in so many ways it breaks my heart. I wish I could wish it all away sometimes. Alter the past. Make it easier. Less chaotic. Less trauma filled. Less complicated. Unfortunately, I do not have that power. I cannot change that which cannot be changed. We can only try to do right by them. To empower them. To give them the tools to deal with their lives touched by trauma. Showing them it is okay to struggle and though life is not always easy, it is still worth living. That striving to do better and be better is worth it, though at times it does not feel like it. That some days may feel like they can not be conquered, but with one foot in front of the other, they will eventually find themselves laying their heads upon their pillows readying for a new day the next morning. Another chance to grow and to become.

I hope that at least they have learned from us. To never give up. To always get up. To look for beauty even when the skies are dark and ominous. To know there is life after trauma. For sure, I wish they did not have to learn these tough lessons at such a young age. I wish I could have protected them better. Been affected less. Been able to play at a higher level. To play a different game. But, in the end, I have to accept how things have transpired and accept myself within that world. I hope in the end it will strengthen them. Secure in the fact that their family is in it together. Knowing how much they are loved. How strong they are. How resilient and brave and inspiring. When we watch them play we are awed by their strength and their capacity to find happiness and joy in difficult times. I suppose really they are the leaders in all of this. Carrying on. Finding their way. Leading us into the light. Keeping us there. Showing us that starting over is not an ending, but instead a new beginning. Another chance. Another opportunity to live.