From the moment our mother died, my brother Paddy lived his short life in an endless vortex of uncertainty and upheaval, yet he continuously issued declarations of resilience and optimism, right up to the week of his death. These are my reflections on what would have been his 30th birthday.
Tom Backora changed my life. Not only that, he saved it. Tom was there for me during the darkest of days, showing up with nourishment for my ailing soul when I needed it most. He was a father figure - a positive male role model - and I'll miss him dearly.
Twenty years have now passed since my mother died, aged just 37. When the anniversaries of loved ones come, we can at least see those mists of grief gathering in the distance, albeit we don’t necessarily know how we will deal with them when they pass through us.
At a remembrance and thanksgiving ceremony at the magnificent St Patrick’s Cathedral in Armagh last Sunday, I experienced something that I had never felt before in my life.
At this time of year I find that I don’t want the days to brighten and I resent Helios in his chariot for greeting me earlier as he crosses the sky each passing day.Â
I was recently given a photograph. Of the three people in it, only I am still alive.
Nothing is written 