In July 2009 we were left without hope. The murder investigation had already been launched before we made it to the hospital where my son lay clinging tenuously to life, a screwdriver rammed senselessly through his skull and deep into his brain.
There was no hope, we were told. He would die.
But he hung on.
And in hopelessness we found hope. Thanks to the beautiful Dolores Ashcroft-Nowicki a call went out to healers worldwide and their messages, their faith, hope and love sustained us when the world went nightmare dark.
Should he survive, we were told, the prognosis for any kind of recovery was appalling. But I had an unreasonable hope and faith in my son. When he finally, miraculously, came through the coma, we set to work on finding that recovery. A long, hard road, sometimes founded on what seemed to others to be unrealistic hope. We did not know how far he could recover, but with love, determination, senseless hope and faith in possibility, his physical recovery now surpasses all expectations.
But his self-confidence was in shreds, he felt ashamed of what he had become, ashamed of the depths to which the unprovoked attack had reduced us. Ashamed to live in the world.
“The wound is the place where the Light enters you.” Rumi
His story touched hearts, and in an act of pure Love, Steve, now my partner in crime in the Silent Eye, launched a campaign to help my son, whom he had never met to regain his confidence and independence.
Messages of hope and love, full of faith in my son and his ability to succeed began to flood in. From the moment that he had been made aware that someone, a stranger, cared enough to launch the campaign in the first place, Nick had begun to realise that there was still hope and something to work for. He began to regain faith in himself. With every message that I relayed to him, his confidence grew and he began to hope once more that there could be a life for him in the future, not just an existence.
My son does not ‘do’ man hugs… but for Steve he would make an exception.
Because, as a result of this growing hope, Faith came into his life. And with her, she brought Love.
She is wise little soul, with a depth of heart unmatched. She is beautiful and kind, talented and funny. She saw beyond the damaged surface, understood the fragility hidden by the bravado, and learned to know my son’s inner self. She loved him as he is, accepting his limitations, yet challenging them for him, opening him to life and laughter again.
Me? I sit back and watch in absolute delight as the two of them grow together in love and care for each other.
Today a small miracle almost passed unnoticed as I left my son at the train station where he caught the train alone for Bournemouth to go and see his Faith. Even six months ago, he could not have faced that. As a dear friend wrote this morning, “Miracles aren’t always big splashy things, are they?”
Though my tears might be. Miracles, like fairies, only happen if you believe in them.
For tonight I have the unbelievable joy of sharing something beautiful with the world. My son and his little Faith are engaged to be married. I wish them so much happiness together, with every ounce of my being and so much love.
So, although the journey has been long and more painful than words can ever describe, we come to joy. Through it all three things have remained with us, sustaining us when all seemed lost, holding us when we took that step out into the unknown and sought to defy the predictions, comforting us through the darkest hours of despair. And I will stand gladly with Paul and assert:
“And now these three remain: faith, hope and love. But the greatest of these is Love.”
1 Corinthians 13:13
“Lovers don’t finally meet somewhere. They’re in each other all along.” Rumi