What a difference a few days makes...

On Sunday I wrote about my magical drive to take my daughter Lara back up to university following her christmas break. I wrote about how beautiful England looked covered in its perfect blanket of snow and how I felt a connection to the winter wonderland all around me through precious memories of the last time that I made the trip just a few months ago.

Last night I made exactly the same trip in the middle of the night after a call to say that Lara had been rushed to hospital and was a very sick girl..the doctors advised that I didn't wait until the morning to go up and I drew my own terrifying conclusions from that. As I drove, the snow was still all around me but this time it looked threatening and had left the road covered in a layer of ice that meant my journey took longer than it should have. The mountains looked a little different this time too, mere silhouettes against a cold, dark sky and inspite of their beauty, they too held no magic for me. As I started to climb in altitude to cross them, the temperature continued to drop and the roads became more hazardous, meaning an even slower journey to get to Lara. Damn the snow and damn the mountains. I wanted to get to my little girl.

I thought of Sunday's journey during the long drive last night and one thought just kept coming into my mind the whole time. During that trip, I had been totally mesmerised by the beauty and wonder all around me and in the whole of my piece of writing, my only reference to Lara was to say that she had been fast asleep next to me in the car and because of that, I had had the peace and solitude to have my very own magical and mystical few hours. How very different it was this time. The environment was frustrating me and conspiring against me and I could think of nothing but getting to her.

Right now, I am in a hotel room stealing a few moments before I go back to the hospital to sit with Lara again. She has pneumonia and really does look so very sick. Her spirit and sassiness is still there in buckets though and she has already ordered her boyfriend to take a few days off work and come up on the train to see her (he had no choice, believe me, so of course he is now here!), told me that I am really a rather annoying person at times, given Jeff total grief as always and handed out orders in a way that any sergeant major would be proud of. She is so very unwell but the spirit and grit of my beautiful girl still shine through constantly. She amazes me. Of course, she annoys the hell out of me too (and has done a number of times today as it happens) but I am, as ever, staggered by the feisty but extraordinarily intelligent and compassionate young woman that I raised.

For the third time in her life, I faced the fear of losing her last night and it is such a dark place that I can't dwell on it. I remember when she was just 3 days old, looking at her sleeping in her crib and watching what seemed like very laboured breathing and a feeling of dread came over me. It's a feeling I've had with both of my children and is simply the fear of wondering how I would force myself to keep breathing in and out everyday were I to lose either of them.

When Lara left for a backpacking trip to Australia last year, aged just 18 and flying out all of that way totally alone (she was to meet a friend when she got there) I was so intensely proud of her but I also felt like a part of our life together were over as she spread her wings and flew, in the way that I had always hoped that she would have the confidence to. I posted this song on my myspace page the day after she left and I wanted to share it with you all now. It sums up I think how we often feel as we see our children grow up, begin to need us less and take more and more control of their own lives exactly, of course, as they should do...