A bit brave

 I’ve never felt more tired than I do this morning. Yesterday my grandson Isaac was buried. He was only 23 but from his birth, he seemed to be on borrowed time. Even so, nothing prepares you for such a brutally quick end. He had no immune system and in those 23 years, his health was always at risk. He was incredibly brave and always seemed strong enough to survive. We had got used to him beating the odds but Covid proved too much and he succumbed within a week. His mum, dad, and sister were with him in those final days, bringing comfort, reassurance but most of all love, while the doctors and nurses made him comfortable. Something in the back of my brain is telling me that this could not have happened. That it’s all a mistake and I will see him again. I’m told that this is a common experience for many bereaved people but that is no consolation. So I need to learn from my grandson and be brave, to see all the things he achieved and celebrate the precious 23 years we had with him. So w

  On Monday night I went to Andy’s Man Club, Pontefract with some trepidation. I knew I was going to talk about my grandson's death and I knew that I would cry. My thanks to everyone in my group for their support and sensitivity. I wasn't the only one in tears. At the interval, I spoke to a new guy who had not been able to speak during the session. Very painfully he began to open up to me. It was good to feel normal and useful for a few minutes because our conversation helped both of us. My thanks to everyone at AMC Pontefract and a special thanks to Lee C who I know has been worrying about me and my family. I saw my daughter for the first time yesterday after she had come out of isolation. It was good to hold her and my granddaughter and talk to my son-in-law. They are all dealing with immense pain but are talking about Isaac and letting the feelings come. Human beings are fragile creatures but extremely resilient. We will all get through this and be left with the happiest of