How do you pick yourself up if you are the mother of cricketer Phillip Hughes?
I would like to say I know the answer, but I don’t. Even though I have been in the same position. Our second son died when he was five years old.
I also experienced the impact of a child’s death on a parent when my 19-year-old brother died. I was 9. My parents were never the same.
None of us expect our children to die before us.
I would like to say something comforting and ‘deep’ to the mother and family of Phillip Hughes – but I can’t.
I would like to say you get over it. But I don’t think you do.
There is not a day when I do not think of our son who is not here, even though we have two other sons who are happy, healthy, fantastic, gorgeous young men. There is not a family occasion when I do not think of my big brother who is no longer here, even though I have another big brother.
So what you do is to continue to live. You get on with life. You go to bed, you try to sleep, you get up, shower, have breakfast.
Life. Goes. On.
But it doesn’t for that person for whom you would gladly and freely give your own life.
You do the every day things of life. You have to shop. Eat. Sleep. Work. Mow the lawn. Vacuum clean. Do the laundry. Cook.
What I can say is you will have some more good moments. You do smile again. You do laugh again. You do live again. And there are many things to live for.
But life is never the same. It’s just not.
A nation mourns for Phillip Hughes.
The sad truth is that there are too many families affected by the tragic deaths of young people every hour of every day, whether it be by freak accident, illness, poor life choices or high risk behaviour. Not to mention war.
I don’t know the answer. But I do know that I weep with the mother of Phillip Hughes. May peace be with you and your family.
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