Yesterday started off just fine.
I had lots of sleep. We went for a run before breakfast. We visited Brad's cousin who we hadn't seen in six years. We had lunch. Then we headed out for a bushwalk.
We successfully made it to the spot that was deemed the best destination in the area, and within five minutes all peace and serenity was shattered when a young man fell down a short rocky cliff.
There weren't that many people on the beach, so Brad and I walked over as calmly as we could, carefully picking out way over the uneven rocks, to see if our help was needed.
While the guy was conscious, it was like something out of a horror movie. I genuinely don't think I've seen that much blood in real life, in my entire life.
We pitched in, in the ways we could: Brad with practical support, me with emotional support. And when the paramedics arrived, and we could take our leave, we processed how we were feeling as best we could as we walked back out of the bush changed people.
I'm grateful we were able to help.
I pray that the young man heals well.
And I can tell you, I squeeze Brad a little harder now than ever before.
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