The Return

Island life was difficult to resume, and although I loved Kefalonia, I my heart was left back in England right beside Mum.

Kefalonia was ready to open for the summer season, with the promise of new beginnings adorning every nook and cranny of the island, I, however, was in no such mood to celebrate the start of my first season in Kefalonia. Guilt consumed my time, and I had no idea how I was going to reach the other side of the chasm that had formed in my life. Stay, Go... Go, Stay. My days were filled with these thoughts. I had no time to form close friendships on the island, and so had no confidant. other than my partner.

Once Mum was through the worst of the storm, I was able to call home and my sister would put the phone to her ear so I could speak to her. She was unable to say much back, just a few muffled words, but just hearing her voice brought much comfort to my pain. I spoke and spoke so she could hear my voice, and I just knew that this small act gave her hope and love.

Friends from far and wide were sending us all healing thoughts and prayers, and I truly believe this went a long way to helping my Mum and I to get through the next few weeks and months. Every day she was here was a blessing, with the Doctor's hailing her as a 'medical marvel'.

I survived the first week in May, by throwing myself into work, and trying to make sense of life. I am ashamed to admit that part of me had buried away what was happening back at home, something I have since learned is merely a survival technique, or coping strategy when we experience trauma.

Not the start to the season I had hoped, but we have to make the most of life don't we?