the life of bren
Everyone’s life has ups and downs, dramas and traumas, that shape them into who they are.
Over the course of my own life I almost drowned twice, was run over by a car and had a few other narrow escapes, such as climbing virtually unscathed out of my sturdy estate wagon, after it was crushed by a huge falling tree one day when I was driving home. The car was a write-off, and sadly so was my marriage not long after that.
Although highly unpleasant, these were mere ups and downs compared to the major traumas of my life. The first actually happened not long after I left home and returned to my birth land of Scotland, to study art and to make my way through life as an aspiring adult.
heartbreak and loss
Away from my mother’s watchful eye, college life was more fun than I had ever dreamed of. I was a happy-go-lucky art student of twenty-three when I discovered I was pregnant. Back in the 1960s there was no support system for unmarried mothers like there is today and I was faced with a terrible choice. Hardly able to look after myself, let alone a child, I had no option but to give up my new born son for adoption and it broke my heart.
Three years later, after marrying my boyfriend, we were blessed with a second son, Gregor, but he was only a few months old when I had to undergo a total hysterectomy. At only twenty-seven years old, the shocking truth hit me – no more babies for me.
This boy became my reason for living, and it was a joy to see him grow strong and tall, along with his twin brothers, who joined our family at the age of three.
Then my heart was shattered a second time when Gregor fell from the fishing boat he worked on and suffered a fatal heart attack. He was only twenty-four and darkness overtook my life. Not only had my first child been taken from me but now my second son was gone from my life forever.
My two remaining sons, whilst themselves struggling to cope with the loss of their older brother, suffered even more when I, their mum, seemed to have lost the will to live.
Life was dark and meaningless as I strove to accept the unfairness of it all. Every day I asked myself in despair “why me?”