Tell me, what is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?

Tim in Fiesole -
our 30th wedding anniversary

It's now over seven months since I took part in the desert trek and, still, when I think of that time I smile. I can't quite remember the physical difficulty of walking in such intense heat, or how the smell of the portaloos made me retch.

What I do remember is the laughter, the smiles, the comradeship.

I set out to raise money by punishing myself. Well, I certainly did that. What I didn't expect is that I would make new friends, that I would sign up for other challenges, that I am strong.

When Tim was diagnosed with a brain tumour, a few people told me I was brave. When he passed away, it seemed to be the thing to say. I didn't know how to respond. I wasn't being brave at all. What do you do when a loved one needs you? It's not bravery that makes you stay. It's love. You have no choice but to go on. I didn't warrant or deserve to be called brave. I was scared, terrified. I can't tell you how the anxiety and fear took hold. Three or four hours of sleep at night. Silent weeping. Trying to breathe. Nightmares. Trying to put on a good show for Tim, for our children, for all the visitors (sometimes unthinking, sometimes rude, sometimes lacking empathy).

That isn't being brave. It's being there for those you love. 

And then that person is gone. And you're still expected to smile and accommodate and being called brave.

The Cambridge Dictionary defines brave as: showing no fear of dangerous or difficult things.

I look back to those few weeks at the start of 2019 and I know that I was not brave.

But the trek in Jordan showed me that I can be brave. I have a choice: for the rest of my life I can retreat from the world, or I can choose to truly live. 

It seems to me that living is the thing. To live with all my being. Tim's life was taken away. How indulgent and selfish would it be to not grasp the gift of life? Or, as Mary Oliver, the American poet asks:

Tell me, what is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?

In this spirit, I have recently undertaken a couple of scary challenges. Well, scary for me, that is. I am not a great public speaker but when the Marconi Belles WI and the Maldon 41 Club approached me and asked me to be their speaker, I barely hesitated. They wanted me to tell their members about the desert trek and they paid a fee which I donated to the Brain Tumour Charity. I spent weeks planning my photo presentation and the week before each meeting, nerves and anxiety kicked in. Now, I could have pleaded illness, but I couldn't let them down. And once I started my talk, I had the best time. At the end of the talk, I spoke of Tim. Of our life together. And it felt like a celebration. And I'm so grateful to both these organisations for inviting me and donating so generously.

I'm not actively fundraising for the Brain Tumour Charity now. I might do small things from time to time. But I will keep on with my challenges (big and small) and I'll always sing in my head: This One's For Tim!

To everyone who donated, I am so, so grateful. You'll be pleased to know that the total raised is a whopping £4,221.67.

How amazing is that? Thank you.

Sunset in Jordan