A Sense of Perspective

5 Oct

As I write this, an entire community is out searching for a little girl in Wales whilst the rest of the UK is holding its breath and praying for a happy outcome.

In these days of rolling news and instant updates, I am rarely moved to tears by any items on the news, but I broke down when I watched April Jones’ mum pleading for the safe return of her daughter.

I do not know if I will ever see my children again.  I can only hope that one day they will realise that I acted as I did in order to protect them and to lessen the pain that I knew would come their way.  It was bad enough that one of their parents chose to leave the other, but I never imagined the depths that their father would stoop to in order to a) try to get me to return to him and b) to punish me for daring to leave.

He used the children as bait and then as a weapon to hurt me, but in targetting me, the damage that he has done to them is unimaginable.

As I parent I hoped that my children would grow up to be independent, open-minded and honest.  I hoped that they would be happy no matter where their lives led them and that they would never feel dispair or fear.  April’s mum has a far more basic wish for her daughter.

My children are getting on with their lives.  Not a day goes by when I do not wonder what they are wearing or where they are, or worst, I worry that they are changing so much that I may pass them in the street and not recognise them.

But all of my worries are put in to perspective when I watch the news.  My children are independent, vibrant and alive.

Coral Jones, my heart goes out to you


One Response to “A Sense of Perspective”

  1. Terri Nixon October 6, 2012 at 8:28 am #

    I can’t imagine what it must be like for you, living day to day without access to your children, and although April’s family are going through utter torture, it’s torture of a different kind but no more or less valid than your own.
    I remember coming home from work the day I heard about the Dunblane incident and grabbing hold of Robbie (he was the same age as those children at the time, and the only one who survived was also called Robbie) and swearing I would never take his presence for granted again. Two weeks later I was railing him up hill and down dale over something completely stupid and insignificant.

    I am absolutely positive that one day your children will realise the world that has removed you from them isn’t some far distant star, but accessible and complicated, and that nothing is ever black and white when it comes to families and emotions. As they get older they will encounter difficulties of their own that will pick at the edges of what they’ve been told, and it’ll all start to unravel, leaving only you, standing there waiting for them.

    I firmly believe this, just as I believed something ghastly would happen to you-know-who. And it has. Keep the faith, you’re amazing. x

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