Nothing, absolutely nothing has prepared me for Sulien’s sudden and tragic death. On returning to our family home, an hour after holding him dead for the first time, a close friend risked, “from all this darkness, will come light”! I was furious. I wanted to scream at him. He had no idea! I’ve learnt to sit with words that disturb me most. I had an appalling first night of traumatic wakefullness. I couldn’t imagine going on, without him.

By morning I realised that amongst the many things I may have to do in my profound grief, one would have to be to actively seek the light.

I have not hidden or side stepped my pain. I have walked right into it, whenever and however I could. As this, at times terrifying journey forward unfolds, I have found light; a lot of it. And just as I need to share my deepest pain, so too must I honour that light.

The list of goodbyes each days to a plethora of things we shared on this beautiful planet continues unabated . . . . . It hurts. I would not have survived bad grief.

If this is good grief and I am told it is, I will only sustain it, if I share it.

The phrase, as you will read in my blog as our story unfolds, was ironically one I would sometimes use in conversations with my rather passionate son, Good Grief Sulien!

Good Grief, who’d have thought just a few weeks ago, I’d be writing a blog like this. Am I sure? No.

But I’ve kind of got used to not being so sure about things these last few weeks.

This blog is for me mainly. It honours my son. I hope it also helps others who like me find them selves looking for others who have also lost a child.