Reflecting on 2022, this started as social media post and then became a blog. I hadn’t done a big reflection about 2022, mainly because for me and my family it’s been an awful year. I didn’t want to think about it all any more or drag it all up but the more I saw everyone else posts the more it got me thinking. Pondering, reflecting, and finally putting my thoughts down in the virtual diary that is a blog.
Let’s get the big stuff done and out of the way. First, Rory, my 2-year-old had surgery in March. Nothing quite prepares you for watching your tiny human be gassed down. I’m pretty familiar with it given my clinical background but watching his limp and seemingly lifeless body on the hospital bed is something I think I will always remember.
Recovery was awful. I would have far rather he’d stayed in overnight with IV pain relief, but they seem to want you out by the end of the day. Initially he was pretty good, he ate and slept, and I was happy to take him home. As the hours ticked by the pain management was challenging. Eventually pessaries did the trick and by the end of 2 weeks we were through the worse.
The lightness
Finally, we started to see an improvement in him. He could sleep all night – first time since he was born! Plus, he could communicate, again something he couldn’t do due to his hearing issues. I felt a weightlifting but with that I also had a wobble and massively cut down my work, pulling Rory out of nursery and vowing to just get to know each other better. The lack of sleep had huge impact on our family dynamic and the way I felt towards Rory.
Life seemed a little lighter. Things became a little easier and we started to look forward to the summer.
The darkness
And then something no one saw coming happened. My family member ended his life. The fallout of this was horrific. It’s not my story to tell so I’m leaving it there but it’s fair to say it changed everything for a lot of us.
Amid that most awful week I also lost my heart horse, Indio. Heart horse sounds so naff when typing it but it’s the only way I can describe how much he meant to me. Every week for 4 years I’d ridden him, weekends were planned around him, and every Friday was my day to just be me. Looking between his ears was a kind of meditation and he soothed my soul. Throughout my darkest days he brought me comfort, a canter up a bridle way left me full of peace and happiness. He kept me sane during COVID and I rode him well into my pregnancy. Rory sat on him, and he was little piece of escapism. I just adored him; he was the one I trusted with my life.
Then he was gone.
Empty stable.
A mound in the field.
Gone.
My solace
My solitude, sanity, and joy. In a time when I really needed to watch the world from between his ears he wasn’t there. Words cannot explain how bereft I was. Driving down the roads we used to hack along left me sobbing. Images of him made me sad and the yard, a place that I’d always run too became a place I hated. A place that just reminded me of what had gone. In such a sad, cruel, and unfair way, he deserved to be hedge hopping and loving life till the very end. Not gone in the prime of his life.
And so, we limped along to the end of the year. Tears have been shed and my heart is still in pieces. Time heals and I can now reflect on 2022. Nurture is my word for 2023 and I so hope 2023 is the year that heals all of us.
