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.
Tags: bereavement, death of a child, grief