My world was turned completely upside down in 2012, and I honestly thought I had reached my breaking point.
My long-term relationship had broken down, and I was once more a single mum to my then 13-year-old daughter. Worse than that, though, it was the year that my brother died from an inoperable brain tumour.
I was living in Crete at the time and feeling utterly lost, as though my entire foundations had been rocked to the core. We knew it was coming, and in many ways it was a form of relief. To know that my bro was no longer suffering and fighting the inevitable. I also had a very special reminder of him etched into my skin, my Japanese fighting tiger representing his Chinese year and his never-ending fighting spirit.
I can remember when I first told him that I was going to get it done, and how he had smiled, knowing that this would be no easy task for me, given that I am not exactly big on anything pain-related! I knew instantly that it had to be a tiger, and ironically, my sister now has the same tattoo, so it is now as much a connection to her as it is to my brother.
While it was a dark time in my life, this was nothing in comparison to how it affected my mum and dad. Being a mum myself, I cannot begin to imagine the extent of the emotional pain that they felt upon losing their only son, and while he was still in his thirties. Death is never nice, but somehow, when it goes against the natural order of things and a parent has to bury a child, it feels even more cruel and unjust.
Having had the funeral in England, where my brother was living, we were all set to go our separate ways. My daughter and I returning to Crete, and my parents to their life in Spain. However, when my dad came to me and said, ‘Your mum really needs you right now,’ I knew he was speaking as much for himself.
In that moment, I knew I had to change my flight and go to Spain with them. What I didn’t know was that it would be a defining moment in my life, and that it would lead to us embarking on a whole new chapter. During the two weeks we spent there, we got talking about what I was going to do and whether I intended to remain in Crete. To be honest, I had been so consumed by everything that was happening that I hadn’t really had a chance to consider what would come next.
Could I honestly pack up everything and start again? I know I am an impulsive person, but what came next was pretty crazy even by my standards! At the end of the two weeks, I returned to Crete with a rental agreement for a newly built, unfurnished house just around the corner from my parents. I wasn’t sure if this was going to be a long-term move, but I instinctively understood that this was where I was needed.
Within two months, we made the move – me, my daughter, my dog, all our belongings and my car. We could only fly as far as Madrid on account of being able to transport our dog on the plane. My mum and dad drove to meet us, and a whole new chapter began.
Much has happened since then, not all of it good, but whenever things get tough, a glimpse of that tiger tattoo in the mirror reminds me that I am living out the years that were stolen from him. Contrary to making me feel sad, it enables me to harness his fighting spirit, take risks and embark on new challenges such as this one with Bridging the Gap.
I would love to hear about the ‘defining moment’ that brought you to Spain – feel free to share in the comments.
