I woke up in the middle of the night thinking of Barry. I don’t know Barry, I have no idea what he looks like, what he did with his life, was he tall or short? ... I know nothing except 2 things
He died 2 years ago and Esther misses him.
Yesterday I spoke about Grace at a bereavement study day near Southend. As usual when I speak I wear my grief proudly, I let my tears speak as much as my words and I let my words leave you in no doubt as to the fact I’m still working out who I am in the light of my daughters death 4 years and 2 weeks ago.
Today marks the anniversary of Grace’s funeral, the day I walked my daughter down the aisle in a white willow coffin, the day my wife and I sang Amazing Grace past the ache in our hearts and throats, the day a congregation joined us in singing with such love and gusto that it almost blew us of our feet. Today marks the anniversary of watching my little girl being lowered into a hole in the ground that My brother Peter helped me dig, the day I watched that tiny coffin being covered with dirt.
