With the younger children growing up and going into full time education, I find more time during the day, this can be a double edge sword by giving time to consider the darkness, so I am often put on my running shoes, where I find myself jogging to my son’s grave. It is only a 10 mile round trip but it allows me to clear my mind and seek an inner peace.

It is easy to write a blog filled full of sadness and forget about all the positives and indeed, I feel the loss of George daily and I know I will always live with the guilt of a parent of a child in heaven, but interweaved is a happiness. I sometime watch the younger children play, they would talk about ‘baby George’ with such happiness and pride. I am always shocked how they frequently mention him when I least expect it. As parents, we don’t hide George’s memories away or

There are some days that just sneak up on you. It’s not that I am sitting here feeling sorrow for myself while looking at photos or even happen to of mention his name while talking to friends. It just happens, it is like a speeding freight train or a cartoon anvil falling from heaven. It’s just there… It has only been two years and they’re days I feel I’m breaking apart. The days of solitary exile from the living hell, where I have so much hate and anger for the world, but n

Now that the Christmas period is over, have you ever wondered why every holiday season is like torture for a bereaved parent? It’s because they really are. To watch your other children, play and open presents, the sound and laughter fills the room but at the same time knowing that someone isn’t there. How can you be happy and sad at the same time without the feeling of guilt, hurt or sorrow of loss. Not to sound patronising, just imagine if you can, living every holiday wit

Two years ago, I was looking forward to my life with baby George, things were looking rosy and all the family was up for the challenge, but fate destroyed our future. Not a day goes by without me asking myself if I could have done anything different and if I was asked to swop my life to of let George live, I would have done so in a heartbeat. Many times, I have tried to explain the pain of losing a child to people who haven’t gone through this lost. After the initial awkward

With the days, minutes and even seconds ticking ever on, the anniversary of Georges death beckoned like the sands of times within an hour glass. It has been almost two long years of a living hell where there been moments I wished the shroud of darkness would engulf me, allowing me to lay down to sleep next to my baby boy, only knowing that my living family needed me keeps me from the endless darkness. Each day my sole feels the pains of hurt that can never be spoken, my tears