I’m sorry I left you for so long wondering if Jon got out of his Afghan jail before our baby arrived in the world.
It was the shock when reading my diary at how very miserable I was stuck in Quetta waiting for news. Over the years I’ve succeeded in turning the story of Jon’s kidnap while I was pregnant into an amusing dinner party anecdote. If anyone had asked me how I felt being pregnant in Pakistan I’d have said it was absolutely fine – sailed through it.
In fact, I was an emotional, blubbering wreck who cried a lot and raged in my diary. I suspect it was writing my thoughts and fears every day which saved my sanity – and allowed me to put on a brave face in front of other people.
I spent a lot of time in discussions with other aid agencies as the most powerful negotiating tool we had was if they let it be known they would stop supplies going in unless Jon was freed. I also had to carry on with my work although it wasn’t easy to focus on preparing budget applications when I was worrying about Jon.
One entry read: “His mother has sent his birthday card. Will he be back on time? I’m not going to tell her yet – she’d be worried sick and can do nothing. I just can’t imagine in what conditions he is living, how he is coping, how he is feeling – you’d think we’d be emotionally close enough for telepathy to work. Finding it too difficult now. I’m afraid I can’t cope for much longer and I’m becoming more and more afraid he will not come back.”
On November 22, I wrote: “Just heard on the BBC Thatcher has resigned. That stopped me thinking about Jon for all of 30 seconds.”
It was the day I received further news Jon was still in jail. I write: “Everyone is depressed. Moosa [the office chowkidar] was so happy because he received a letter from his brother – first time he’s had news from home for ages. I wish I’d taken a photo of his happiness – such a smile. The family sent him almonds, which he brought to share with me. Lovely he wanted to share his gift and his joy but because we are all miserable because of Jon’s situation Moosa’s happiness is dimmed.”
I was not alone – lots of people were around me providing support: Hamid Shah who was in charge of the Quetta leprosy programme would visit, sometimes sweeping me up to take me home for meals with him and his wife, Shanaz. Evelin, a German midwife who was working here was a good friend, frequent visitor and huge support and Linda, a health visitor who worked for a different NGO was always there at the end of the phone (when the damn things were working) keeping me calm. Nick and Debbie visited or invited me to their home. “It is good to know,” I wrote, “we have such good friends who really care. The only problem is – they weaken me – my stiff upper lip trembles at their kindness and I risk dissolving into tears.”
And the baby? It seemed to be doing fine. I attended the ante-natal clinic regularly seeing Dr Shahnaz who assured me the baby was growing well. Although, one time she was concerned about my blood pressure being exceptionally high – at which point I burst into tears and explained the situation. She told me not to worry. “If your husband does not come back, I will be there for you. You will not be alone. I will even get into bed beside you when you are in labour.” I thought this a slightly over the top – as was the prescription she gave me for phenabarbitone. I threw it away. Usually used in the treatment of epilepsy, I knew it would cross the placental barrier. I played a lot of Eric Clapton instead.
One evening I received a message to go immediately to the French Bakery, a Hazara run bakery which was a bit of a Quetta institution. When I arrived the boss put a chair in the middle of the shop and handed me a sealed letter. I read it about three times before bursting into tears – of joy. Jon was free. I rushed round to Hamid Shah’s to tell him and Evelin so more hugs and tears all round.
My 2 am diary entry was full of waffle about the note, Jon’s possible arrival date and my gratitude for always having someone to keep me going through the nightmare. “Now, I feel really guilty about how little work I’ve achieved – I should get busy immediately.” Maybe not at two in the morning!
Jon arrived back on December 01 – fit and healthy and looking in much better condition than I felt. He’d been reasonably well treated, had patients brought to him and was allowed out to play football every day. The worst part had been when they’d originally arrested/kidnapped him and accused him of spying. Unfortunately, Jon didn’t recognise the word for spy so had no idea of what he was being accused. They were hauling him into position to hang upside down to be beaten when someone higher up came into the room and told them to cut him down. It soon transpired it was money they were after, not a conviction in court.
And that’s when my euphoria at having him back safely rather evaporated. “How did you manage to get free?” I asked.
“I paid the ransom. I sent a note to Hussain asking him to bring whatever he had left in his budget.”
I was furious! All the running about, the meetings with WHO and other NGOs to apply pressure by warning no further supplies would be sent to the area, had been for nothing. They would think this was a very nice little earner – no one would be safe if they thought the ransom demand would always be met.
Jon was unrepentant. “I was afraid I wouldn’t get back before our baby was born.”
I calmed down – not good for the baby to get so worked up. And now, Dr Shahnaz wouldn’t have to get into bed with me when I went into labour and I could look relax and enjoy the last few months of my pregnancy.
I should have known better.
Glad to read your husband was freed and back in time for the arrival of the baby. I would have been a mess to be honest. Thanks for sharing this episode as we have all been waiting. Take care, my friend. xo
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I was a mess, Darlene! I’d truly forgotten how miserable and emotional I was. I guess it’s nature’s way of protecting us. Thanks, Darlene.
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It is amazing how memory smooths over the rough spots. I often get a similar feeling when reading old journals. I always thought you were brave, Mary, but reading this story and imagining how hard it must have been on you further solidifies my opinion. You are one kick ass woman. You must have been elated to have your husband back in arms reach.
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I’ve just said to Darlene I think it must be nature’s way of protecting us, Maggie. I am amazed at how differently I had been remembering events. It was good to have him back before the baby arrived – even I wouldn’t have been able to smooth that over.
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I am so thankful it worked out that way for you.
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Ooooh. Can hardly wait to read the next instalment! Makes my first 2 pregnancies in the extreme west of Ireland in a thatched cottage sans water, sans electricity, sans toilet facilities and sans ceiling to stop sooty raindrops coming through sound like a stroll in the park 🙂
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Oh, Fiona, you need to write it up so we can all read about it. At least I had functioning toilet facilities – even if it was a squat loo 🙂
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That’s a ‘phew!’ though not great to have to pay a ransom I guess. Can’t wait to see what happens next!
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It was a relief – and I’ve kind of forgiven him paying his own ransom. I’d have struggled if I’d had to have the baby while he was still in jail.
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Oh, I do enjoy these Mary, and I felt the intensity of the sentence. “The only problem is – they weaken me – my stiff upper lip trembles at their kindness and I risk dissolving into tears.” Reading this alongside sharing your cancer blog emphasises the cyclical nature of our lives and the fragility and strength we humans encompass. xx
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Thanks so much for your response, especially to that sentence. I always felt I had to put a brave and smiling face on when I was with the staff and friends, which is why recording how I really felt was such an important thing to do for my sanity.
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Great teaser at the end! Seems that he was just as emotional, for he had to know that paying the ransom wasn’t a good thing, but deal with that later. He was putting his family first.
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That’s so you have to tune in next week! Yes, I guess he was just as emotional but as he didn’t keep a diary he has forgotten pretty much how he felt – or he isn’t saying! But, yes, he wanted to be back in Quetta for the birth.
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Forgot to say – remember Haji Bostan? He was the instigator of Jon’s arrest.
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All to get more money and attention for his clinic — and do it his way?
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Yep, he was power hungry, greedy and a thoroughly bad person.
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It’s unbelievable what you’ve gone through Mary!
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Sometimes, Kim, I’m not sure I believe it myself. If I didn’t have my diaries I’d certainly not remember how miserable I was at the time.
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Good grief, Mary. But he made the right decision, really. Family should always come first. Both joy and anger -so many situations in life bring conflicting emotions.
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Yes, he did, Judith, even if he had to face my fury at him paying the ransom. And I was very glad he was back in time for the birth – plenty of time for us to argue 🙂
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Thank goodness. What a frightening experience for both of you.
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It was, Liz. It was a relief knowing he was going to be there when the baby was born.
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I’m glad Jon was released, but I am not likeing that cliffhanger… 😉
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I was glad, too, even if furious with him. It wasn’t quite the plain sailing I expected, though. You’ll have to tune in next week 🙂
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You know I will 😉
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I can’t imagine the fear you lived with, Mary- and pregnant, too! I’m glad Jon came home to you safe and sound, but can see where this could cause complications in the future.
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The raging hormones didn’t help matters, Jacquie. Fortunately, it didn’t cause problems for others in the future because it was a personal thing rather than political.
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I don’t like that last line.
I like all the rest, though. And Thatcher resigning… that really puts it into place for me.
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It’s funny the things I recorded – lots and lots of weeping and wailing then that line about Thatcher. Later, another line to say John Major was the new Prime Minister. I’ll try to complete the story next week, Jemima.
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Can’t wait for the next episode! What a story…
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Thanks, Marina. Tune in next week 🙂
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Wow Mary.
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Thanks, Lynn.
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Cliff-hanger!! I was primed and ready to read the next part of the story–and it wasn’t there! What a time for you and Jon to have gone through.
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I had a week off, Liz, but I’ll make sure the next episode is there next week. It was a tough time but fortunately – until I read my diary – I’d forgotten how tough.
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I look forward to the next installment.
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Just have well you knew not to take the Phenobarb!
I think you have been reading too many of my serials, Mary.
Leaving us with a cliffhanger Naughty… 🙂
Best wishes, Pete.
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Learning from the master, Pete 🙂 I didn’t take anything during my pregnancy – I had a glass of white wine when I was six or seven months pregnant and the resulting heartburn ensured I never touched it again. I can’t believe she thought it was OK to give Phenobarb in pregnancy.
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Uh oh. I thought we were sailing free. Then that last gust came from your last line. 😬
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We’re nearly there, John. It would have made for a very long post so I thought it best to stop there – but I wanted you to come back next week.
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Wild horses couln’t keep me away. 😁
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Good news! I can only imagine the mental and emotional turmoil surrounding such circumstances–and the disappointment in the workings of politics.
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Thanks, Bette. It was a tough time. Sadly, the people involved in local politics could never see the bigger picture – only what they wanted. I guess it’s a reflection of the national politics (and not only in Afghanistan).
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Politicians everywhere could benefit from eye, brain and heart surgery… They never seem to learn their lessons to the benefit of the people. We can only hope that eyes, minds and hearts may be opened up during this pandemic…
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Thank goodness for diaries, Mary…its funny how our memories gloss over our fears and emotions…A sneaky ending my dear but most us would be back anyway just a little insurance on your part methinks/knows…lol…Stay safe 🙂 x
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I was really shocked to realise how much I’ve glossed over down the years. Carol. Glad to know you’d come back even without the cliff hanger 🙂
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I can’t believe (I can but it is overwhelming) all you had to go through. So glad he returned before the baby came. I worry about what might have come next!!!!!
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I think overwhelming describes it pretty well, Lauren. I was very glad he came back before the baby arrived. I’ll tell you about how that went next week 🙂
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I look forward to the next part of the experience.
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Go. Back. To. Scotland. Hmm, never thought I’d write those particular words as a dyed in the wool Englishman!. I’ve never experienced anything like that, Mary but the one time I’ve been caught up in a situation where someone I love is threatened over a period and there’s little to do but wait and hope, is so debilitating yet, to the outside world it’s necessary to pretend otherwise. Admitting how it felt even to myself, was hard, often impossible. And even now remembering what it was like to go through comes with difficult. That part of your experience I do understand and thank heaven it is now unpicked and included in the box of anecdotes to be rummaged in over dinner. I’m not sure if I’ll ever get there but at least it’s done and dusted and behind us.
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It never really occurred to me that going back to Scotland was an option. I couldn’t have gone with Jon still in jail and once he was free then we carried on. I’m sorry you had such a horrible experience to deal with. It’s odd how some of us feel obliged to present a brave face to the rest of the world and not let on how we are really feeling. If I hadn’t read my diary I would genuinely have forgotten how bad the situation was and how miserable I felt – if I hadn’t written it all down in my diary at the time, I’d have struggled to put on that brave face. Glad you’ve packed away the bad memories and, I guess, some things are never going to be dinner table anecdotes.
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Blimey! Mary, this is intense and I felt I was watching a movie. What a terrifying time for you … thank goodness you had your diary … writing really is a life-saver! I’m so glad Jon was released in time for the birth of your child and I suppose he was pragmatic in paying the money. To be safely present with you all.
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Thanks, Annika. It was scary and I was pretty miserable – writing in my diary was indeed a life-saver – my own therapy. I was very glad to have Jon back in time – wasn’t really keen on the obstetrician climbing into bed with me when I was in labour 🙂
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I think I have high principles but I’d probably have paid the ransom just to get out of a place where they nearly hung me upside down for a beating regardless of any baby being due! i hope you’ve forgiven poor Jon now.
Juliet xxx
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I’ve forgiven him, Juliet! Though reading about it again did send my blood pressure up 🙂
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Wow. Just, wow.
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Thank you 🙂
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Most riveting serial on the web!
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Thank you, Barb. Come back next week for the finale 🙂
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Oh, such a relief, but I guess we’re not done yet! Happy Release Anniversary to Jon!
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Thanks, Eliza. I can’t believe it was thirty years ago!
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What a cliff-hanger. I’m so glad you had your diary and good friends for support. A diary/journal can be a best friend and confessional which doesn’t dissolve when tears, or coffee, are spilled. I miss carrying one in my purse but one of the reasons I stopped that practice was after losing my Vietnamese journal when my purse was stolen in Barcelona… We are all anxiously awaiting the next post and I can’t stop thinking what a great film, or two, your stories would make. xx
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My diary was definitely a life saver, Lea. I’m sorry you lost your Vietnamese journal. You may find it on eBay! I read an article recently about the number of people who buy and sell personal journals of strangers on eBay. It strengthened my resolve to destroy mine.
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When I moved to France, my books and a number of other things I shipped. Alas, when the crates were unloaded at a port in the UK, about half my shipment somehow disappeared. The driver who had the contract from the moving company dropped off a few boxes here and not with a pleasent attitude and said he knew nothing about it. There were nearly twenty years of journals among the missing so I do understand. I can’t imagine the journal turning up it has been eleven years and it was about the size of my hand. I doubt that anyone could read it as my writing has always been sketchy at best and these days, forget about it.
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I’d have been devastated.
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I was and that was thirteen years ago and I still miss them.
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Good news indeed, Mary, but what a hook at the end! I look forward to hearing about what happened next. Take care
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Thanks, Olga – tune in next week 🙂
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Reblogged this on Smorgasbord Blog Magazine and commented:
Another nail biting episode of Mary Smith’s Pakistan adventure with her husband still a hostage and a baby on the way… Life goes on however with work to be done. But it must have been a dreadful time for the both and as always I come away in awe of Mary and her courage under fire.. Brilliant episode with more to come.. #recommended
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Thanks so much for the re-blog, Sally.
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Wonderful post Mary..xx
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Oh Mary, you poor thing… being pregnant is not the easiest time despite people telling you how blooming you look… but to be in a foreign land, speaking a second language with a husband kidnapped must have been something else. As always I come away inspired and looking forward to the next episode and so pleased Jon made it back, despite the ransom.. money well spent…hugsx
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I certainly didn’t look blooming, Sally – more like a fed up beached whale! I think I might have looked better after Jon got back 🙂
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I am sure you were beautiful, and the best thing he had seen for weeks..xxx
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Wow what an experience, what a life. Diaries, journals so helpful. Amazing. You and your husband are amazing, what an experience. What courage, strength bravery, in such an awful experience. I am so glad it was a happy conclusion.
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Thanks you – so pleased you enjoyed this post. Come back next week for the final instalment 🙂
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Absolutely horrifying how people play with and threaten the lives of others. A ‘trumped’ up charge to extort money. I’m so glad despite the tyranny your husband came back safe. I’d have been out of there pronto. Wait, let me rephrase that, I’d never have been there in the first place. 😦
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Money and power, Debby – at the root of most troubles world wide, I’m afraid. I forgot to say in the post, they actually stole Jon’s wedding ring. Anyway, all ended well – and the main people responsible all came to a bad end one way or another.
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The world runs on greed Mary, sadly. 😦
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You have us all engaged for the next installment. I understand your anger, but I also commend your husband for his decision. It’s wrong, but he had to do what he could to get back.
A doctor climbing into bed with you during labor. Yes, that is a bit over the top. Good call on the Eric Clapton.
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Thanks, Pete. I did forgive him 🙂 Funnily enough my son never listens to Eric Clapton now!
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Even though I thought I knew the outcome, I was terrified that he might not come back. Your anxiety and stiff upper lip were so well described I was on tenterhooks. Thank heavens he was back before you mentioned the bit about trying him as a spy and hanging him upside down. They talk about action-packed thrillers – I’ve not come across anything more action-packed and frightening than this series. (And it isn’t finished yet. There’s a really worrying cliffhanger!)
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Glad you are enjoying it – well, I hope you are. I think the worst bit was that they were accusing him of being a spy but Jon didn’t understand the word for spy so had no idea what they were accusing him of! Hope to see you next week 🙂
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I’m glad you give such a good reason for being cross he’d paid the ransom. Otherwise could be a bit of a dampener on the reunion and subsequent years I’d think! But what a cliff hanger to leave us on (again…)
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I think it did take me quite a while to stop mentioning it 🙂 The final post is up now so no more cliff hangers.
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It is amazing at times how writing can clear the head, writing down fears and worries puts it out there, which allows the mind to free up ~ and while this was such a horrible situation, I do marvel at the care/concern the good people around you had (and understood), such goodness amid chaos is the one constant that makes me smile about the world. This constant push & pull between the good and not-so-good, good always seems to shine the brightest..
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I really believe pouring my thoughts and fears and worries onto the pages of my diary helped to me cope with the situations. I didn’t remember until re-reading them how miserable I was – I remember the public face. I was so lucky to be surrounded by people who cared and offered support. You are right – good usually shines through and there are more good people than bad in this world.
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