The Lost Diaries of John Smith - Part THIRTEEN

Throughout our research and cross-border adventure I often thought about meeting the man who saved my life, and who meant so much to so many people, including my poor dad. He is quiet and keeps his thoughts to himself, but he mourns the death of John Smith, as do I. We all owe him a debt of gratitude that now we can never repay.

I have now left university and spend my time looking after sheep on the farm. It’s hard work and winter is approaching, but we have each other - me and my dad and our friends and our pets and livestock. In these final days of family life I am content to live one day at a time. Today is a blessing and tomorrow will be a bonus.

But then I keep thinking of how things might have been if we had started our search much sooner. Dad often spoke of John Smith since our arrival in Scotland. Why couldn’t we have looked for him years ago? We had the British Red Cross and the resources to reach out across Scotland. But it’s too late now. He’s gone and after reading the letter from his friend he was well loved and respected, and that is reassuring in a country where family and friends means survival.

After that final letter we decided to publish his diaries because of the constant feeling of being watched. We know much about what happened in 2014 and the events of Harthope Burn, but we don’t know what it was like to work for, or be in the presence of those aliens. For most, indeed the vast majority of us, the thought of aliens is - dare I say it - alien! But we must look forward. I spent this evening checking the sheep, while walking with my mum and with John Smith too. We live in a beautiful part of Scotland and that is as harmonious consolation for how we sometimes feel inside. We survive one day at a time and we live one day at a time. We live today for those we have lost, because they deserve to be with us.

Me thinks "The Lost Diaries of John Smith" would make an excellent TV series! I'm just saying...

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