In a month it’ll be four years. It sounds like a long time, doesn’t it? Someone asked me recently, “How long do you think you’ll need your grief group?” I was too stunned to answer for a minute. “How long… “ as if it’s completely understood that there’s a finite time to grieve. You cry a whole bunch of tears and then it goes away. But that’s not how it works when you lose your child.

Four years in, I still have these moments every few days. “I have to tell Ben about …”

WHOOF… like a smack in the chest, my heart races and I get lightheaded. “He’s gone, I can’t.” Adrenaline burns through my limbs, I can feel it flood my fingertips and feet, my face feels like fire and the urge to flee my own skin is overwhelming. Sheer panic.

Where is my son?

Sometimes it passes quickly and sometimes it stays for a while. Eventually my arms and legs get heavy from leftover adrenaline, my heart thumps slow and loud, I’m exhausted and drained.

How long do you think you’ll need your grief group?

I guess until he stops dying again every few days.