Manchester airport, life symetry

The countdown to departure is on: 8 days to go. We're leaving from Manchester airport.

There’s some life symmetry here.

My first husband (H1 hereafter) and I got married in Manchester. We flew from that airport to Pakistan, and Pax was born 9 months later.

I taught English while we were there.

Then, after a year, trouble broke out. I think there was something in Mecca, it got stormed?? And it became unsafe for westerners in Pakistan. We'd had enough of it by then anyway. So we flew back to Manchester.

So it's appropriate we're flying out of there this time, though not planned that way.

Here's Pax around that age--10 months, still in Islamabad.

Surviving bereavement

I don’t know who will read this Blog; it doesn't matter too much. The process of writing is one way I have survived the intense grief of the past 20 months. If anyone reads and makes nice comments, that will be a bonus.

It’s thinking about other people reading this that makes me want to write a bit more of an introduction.

Losing a child--much less all of your children--is the most difficult of bereavement. It is against the natural order of things. If you are reading this because you are a bereaved parent, I'd like to recommend you visit The Compassionate Friends: www.tcf.org.uk . This is a support group that exist internationally, both as a private Internet forum and in local groups.

Something else that has helped me has been receiving grief counselling. Where I live there's the Dove Service www.thedoveservice.org.uk . I hope if you need it you can find something similar nearby. Finding a safe and confidential space to work through issues can be invaluable.

So, back to writing. I have written a bereavement support book. It was born out of my own journey but I've tried to produce something that will help others. I have a few publishers looking at it. In the meantime, if you're interested, take a look here: ttp://www.mayihelp.co.uk/valley_journal_36.html

Okay, that's all to "the readers" if you're out there.

The rest is about Pax, Catherine and me.

It's time to go back to Bhopal: The story of Pax and Catherine

This blog is going to tell the story of Pax, my son, and of my return journey to Bhopal, India, where he died on 27th May 1982.

On 7th January 2013, I will be travelling to India to visit Bhopal for the first time since I lost Pax.

The reasons for this visit are obvious to any bereaved parent; the reasons for not going back there for 30 years are much more complex. Some parts of this are too private for a blog, but I hope to share the highlights.

To start the journey, I have to say a few words of thanks.

First of all, for my (second) husband Simon, whose encouragement and practical support is making this journey possible.

Secondly, to Catherine, my daughter. She is as much a part of my life now as she always has been. She too has taken the final journey, dying on 13 April 2012. Yes, I have lost both of my children, and for those who might ask, I have no other children and no grandchildren. The agony of losing both of my children has devastated my life. I miss them both more than I can express. I more or less suppressed my grief for Pax for 29 years; it was only when I lost Catherine that it came out, full force. In a strange way, losing Catherine, I found Pax. They are both my children, both have a part of my heart that nothing and nobody else could fill.

Here's Pax again, age 3, shortly before he died.

And here's Catherine, his little sister, not so long before she died. 

And here they are together in Pune, 1982: