True Courage

A war is being waged inside my head. A battle of emotions, at the very least. Let me introduce you to my dilemma. I am holidaying in Queenstown, the home of adrenalin rush filled activities in the southern hemisphere whose number and diversity will take too long to detail in a single blog. My particular Achilles heel is a monstrosity called the canyon swing.

Suspended above a rocky canyon, strapped to a harness, one must take a leap of faith and hurl oneself off the ledge and ride the 200m arc of terror which includes a nausea inducing 80 metre free fall. You see I want to leave this holiday having done it. I had made a half promise to myself before arriving that it was on my radar to tick off my bucket list. I know I will be filled with satisfaction at overcoming my fear and bringing the video and pictures home to the children to prove it. I have a relative level of comfort that I will survive it intact given the accident free history of this ride (come on, what are the odds?). It's just the damn anticipation and jumping off that's standing in my way.

I have thought a lot about the nature of fear in the last few years. And bravery. What it means and whom I think has demonstrated these qualities. And I have come to the conclusion that it's not the adrenalin junkies that flock to these parts to test themselves bungying and swinging and skydiving against the backdrop of the jaw-droppingly beautiful mountains of Queenstown.

It's the everyday endurance and strength that I have heard about and witnessed in people who bear the unbearable that I have a sense of true respect for. Living with the loss of a child or caring for a sick child who may or may not recover is the stuff of most parent's nightmares. I have come to know a few of these heroes over the last few years.

My sister and brother-in-law live this every day having lost their 10-year-old son just over 3 years ago. It’s so hard to watch them struggle to come to terms with the cards they have been dealt. They both amaze me with their capacity to love. Despite their sadness, or perhaps because of it, they value special family moments more than ever. My sister still asks me about my love life, my brother-in-law is someone I know I can turn to for advice and a supportive ear and they both show their love and affection for my children when we visit them in Perth. Let alone the time and love they give to their own children who have also lost a brother and must learn to live with loss at an early age.

As Mother’s Day passes for another year, we, as parents, know that with the intense joy that comes with parenting, comes too the capacity for immense pain. And embarking on that journey takes real courage.

So the canyon swing, in all its terrifying glory, awaits me. Will I have what it takes when the moment to jump arrives? Watch this space!