My daughter phoned me yesterday, after her final exam. That’s it, she’s done, she’s finished, university is over. Another chapter in her life is coming to an end as another is about to begin.

That’s not the only achievement. Whilst she was at home over the Easter holiday she drove a car for the first time since her head-on collision last May. She felt she was ready – she had been having dreams that she was driving and felt bereft when she woke up to discover that it wasn’t real. A far cry from the flashbacks she had been having. So, I went with her for a couple of drives, and then she asked me how I would feel if she went solo. I told her that I was ok with it if she felt comfortable, rather perplexed by the seriousness with which she had asked the question. Well, you were traumatised by the accident as well and I want to make sure that you feel comfortable with me going by myself.

I’ve been thinking about this conversation and wondering why I was surprised by it and why I’m not still carrying the fall out from the accident with me – what could have happened, and what did happen to my one and only. Maybe it’s because after it happened I was making – experimenting with drawing maps and hands – and writing about it on this blog. It makes me wonder how differently other things might have turned out had I been making art or had written about it at the time.