Breda felt better after talking to Tom and went to her flat where she had a similar conversation with her flatmate, who reassured her that Cathal would be all right. In the midst of that reassurance the phone rang.
When Time Stood Still in the Shadow of Death
Sunday 18 February 1990will forever be indeliblyimprinted on my mind. It was a beautiful day, and better still we were on mid-term break. In those days I had a particular routine on Sundays. I always went to 11 o’clock Mass, followed by lunch. I frequently visited relations, sometimes went for a drive, or othertimes spent the afternoon reading the paper and dozing. That day, instead of going for a drive, Mary and I went for a short walk after lunch. We passed Cathal and one of his friends, P.J., chatting by the bridge. The bridge spanned a small stream, which flowed gently along the bottom of our lawn, and was like a magnet for all the children around. We stopped for a few words with the boys, and continued our leisurely stroll. I did not know that I would never speak with my child again.
extract from the book ‘When a Child Dies. Footsteps of a Grieving Family. Available from Amazon, Veritas, major bookshops