waiting for the coffin to be closed, never to see our child’s face again.

Other members of our family wanted all this precious time

with Cathal to be for the family only. Frances records that

she was 

hysterical, just hysterical. I resented every single person

in that place that was not my immediate family. I felt

this should have been for us only. He was ours and we

needed that time alone with him. I wanted to tell them

all to get out. I remember the insane comments people

made by way of comfort to my mother: ‘God needed him’;

‘he’s a little angel now’; ‘sure he didn’t suffer.’

I could see that every comment cut my mother’s soul.

It was those who just cried with her that made any

difference at all. One of my best friends didn’t come to

the funeral or the wake. She said by way of explanation

that we were too emotional a family and she couldn’t

take the excess of grief she knew we would express.

 

It seemed like an eternity, but finally the long line of people

passing by ceased and the door was closed. Our family were

again alone with our child, and I felt the loneliness of losing

Cathal increase in the silence before the final prayers. I

listened sadly and incredulously to these prayers, and waited

for the coffin to be closed.

 Extract from When a Child Dies. Footsteps of a Grieving Family. Published by Veritas.

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