I have a strong feeling that Cathal and I would have been
very good friends, and I feel a great loss in that also. In losing
my child and my would-be friend, part of me has died. I have
grieved losing part of myself, of seeing some of my
characteristics as a child buried with him. Losing a child has
been compared to an amputation by bereavement therapists.
But I am peaceful in so many ways. I have lost the driving
ambition that I had to write books, to strive for perfection.
Perhaps it is age, and perhaps it is the many hours of therapy
I did when training as a counsellor. I am amazed that Cathal’s
death did not kill my ambition in those early years, and that
I applied for the principalship of a large school so soon after
his death. My only ambition now is to be as good a counsellor
as I can; to sit and listen, and see the world through the eyes
of those distressed people who come to me for relief.
When a Child Dies. Footsteps of a Grieving Family. Published by Veritas