Holidays. Markers of trauma, healing and breaking cycles.

Time passes. And she realised that each holiday held a marker. Of trauma, of healing, breaking cycles.

The one cut short because of court ordered contact. Naxos, Paros, Amorgos, Mykonos - curtailed to one island. Paid for with by the sale of her wedding ring. Her daughters would not want to inherit that one.

The weekend away with friends, broken to 24 hours to allow for court supervised contact.

The class camp trip which contact stole.

And then the promise of life anew, the blended family holidays. The children alive with their new siblings, memories made that would be imprinted and ensure future holidays feel quiet. Where you saw the secret messages to his lover but couldn’t find the proof. When you went to the most romantic beach in Cornwall and asked him to join you for an hour - and he said no. The heartbreak that the man that was supposed to love you didn’t want you to heal after all.

Teens and dogs in Devon hit with the finality of divorce papers. Cramped Airbnb’s, wondering how to make this holiday fun.

And then the love, that burned so brightly, too brightly, until his trauma and autism became too much to bear. ‘Come I said, come paddle board at sunset  with me’ - and he said ‘no’. And in that moment I knew he couldn’t see me.

And then one year the three. Greece. The place she felt most at home. They were companionable, trauma left at home. Backgammon, cards, easy silence, teen bickering. It had taken 9 years to have a holiday without his impact. 

That this holiday was a marker, she felt alive with the possibility of love, and fun. She had said it would not define them and at last it feels true. And when trauma hits the house again, she will say ‘remember the sea’, ‘remember you felt whole’.