I feel like today was the first day of the rest of my life — hardly an insightful analysis as the label applies to every single day. But after burying Elijah and riding the wave of love and good wishes sent to me by friends, I am left now to discover who I am, what my daughters’ childhood will look like, and where we’ll go from here.

In memory of Elijah Rainbow Fisher

This upheaval has happened at a time when I feel very strong within myself. I am firm in my faith in spiritual realities, confident in my abilities to relate to a wide variety of people and devoted to conscious parenting. I can model these qualities for my girls as we create a new future together.

It’s been startling to adjust to the mindset of being a small family. From seven people to five — we suddenly fit into a regular sedan again, and I’m still uneasy with the idea. 

And all of a sudden, I’m a single mum! This is never a role I imagined I’d be in. 

For many years I’ve been in awe of single parents — moreso after I had children and realised how much effort it takes to give constantly of yourself to those who are still learning how to contribute. Now I’ll learn how to parent in grace and love when I’m tired and worn out — I no longer have the luxury of tagging my husband to pick up my slack. 

My encounters with law enforcement and administrative bodies have been frustrating because I’ve discovered that I don’t yet have the words to convey the spiritual truths which gird my whole framework of being. In hesitating to share freely, I risk being misunderstood — or worse — of losing the opportunity to encourage another fellow human being in their desire for righteousness and love.

Because it’s when we share openly, when we allow ourselves to connect on an emotional level, that we realise that, hey, that other person is not so different from me. And in that realisation, our differences shrink and our love grows, and we come away from the encounter with a smile on our face and a swelling in our heart because we have shared love and received love in return. 

I am determined that — whatever our future looks like — my girls will continue to learn to connect with a variety of people in lovely ways and discover the hand of God in every place they are. Even in this tragedy, I can embrace the blessings and articulate them so together we can chose to focus on the rainbow instead of the clouds.

My mother was visiting my sister on the night Elijah died, and so my sister was able to drive her up here right away to assist with the children. Even the fact that David’s brother was in the country is evidence of Divine timing. 

My father’s supportive presence at my side meant that he was reunited with both my sisters and my mother after many years of non-communication from all parties. Just being in the same room — united by solidarity in the face of grief and loss — is a small step towards re-establishing healthy relationships. 

For what are we without those we love? And what are we without love? 

In the aftermath of Elijah’s death, I am daily reminded of others’ love as I read my emails and open the mail. I know that it is love that sustains me, and this is the same love that I use to serve my children and reach out to people around me.

That’s what I’m going to continue to do — serve my children in love and reach out to people around me in love. If I can continue to model love for my children, and they — in turn — learn to love others by serving them, they will be very powerful adults, equipped to change the world. And it all starts with me.