It’s actually often hard to recognise it when it’s right in front of you.  I have always thought of my dad when the word comes up, because he did so many things when I was growing up that were incredibly brave.  Then, at the start of this week I watched a Panorama progamme about a possible cure for MS, that followed a few individuals who were taking part in the medical trial.  None of them faltered, or complained as they went through intense chemotherapy, 18 days of isolation and the humiliation that is physiotherapy.  They were all SO courageous.  Watching it, I was petrified.  Some people have enthused about this wonderful programme, and the encouraging discoveries that have been made.  I agree of course, but the whole thing terrifies me, as I wonder if I have the capacity to be as courageous as those amazing individuals.

A couple of days ago the sun was out and prompted by my daughter, we walked to school.  I had no idea whether I would make the walk home, as the last time I’d tried it it was a nightmarish lamp-post to lamp-post struggle.  I sat on the bench waiting for my son to get out and felt as far from courage as you can get.  But, I stood up again, asked the kids to go slow, and  I did it.  It wasn’t courage that brought me home, it was sheer determination.

Maybe everyone starts from there.




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