Our Day Trip to Rathlin Island

People say that Ireland is a beautiful country and if you could rely on the weather you would never holiday anywhere else. I agree entirely.

Our eldest has been trying to get us on a family trip to Rathlin Island  for the last couple of years, but any time that we planned to go the weather forecast dissuaded us. Rathlin Island lies just six miles north of the seaside town of Ballycastle in Co Antrim. It is also only fourteen miles from the Mull of Kintyre in Scotland.

Finally this past weekend we agreed on a date, checked and rechecked the forecast, packed the obligatory picnic and off we headed. We phoned that morning to book places on the ferry and to check the parking arrangements in Ballycastle. We were assured that there was plenty of free parking nearby, although finding an actual parking space when we got there proved a little challenging.

The ferry that took us over was quite comfortable and provided shelter from the elements. We enjoyed sitting together out on deck and admiring the panoramic views across the Sea of Moyle.

Although I was raised in Cork City, which is at the opposite end of Ireland, I’m familiar with some of the folklore associated with this area, especially the sad tale of the Children of Lir. Indeed I can still recite part of Thomas Moore’s Song for Fionnuala  which I learned at school:

Silent, oh Moyle, be the roar of thy water,


Break not, ye breezes, your chain of repose,


While, murmuring mournfully, Lir’s lonely daughter
,

Tells to the night-star her tale of woes.


When shall the swan, her death-note singing,


Sleep, with wings in darkness furl’d?


When will heav’n, its sweet bell ringing,


Call my spirit from this stormy world?

On our arrival at this beautiful Island, I was surprised to see how many people use cars to get about. Lots of people were using bicycles too, these are available for hire on the Island. There is a bus service on the Island also. This is the only inhabited island off the north coast of Ireland. It is an unusually shaped isle – eight miles long and less than a mile wide. The resident population of the Island averages approximately 140 and growing. We had already decided that we were going to walk – at a leisurely pace – for our sightseeing visit.

Our first stop was the beach – the blend of white and grey stones is very eye catching. Ireland is normally referred to as having ‘forty shades of green’ but this was more like ‘forty shades of white’. This is apparently due to a mixture of limestone and basalt.

Our son amused himself intermittently by using the Pokémon Go app on his phone. He was amazed at how many PokeStops there are on this tiny island.

Our youngest daughter is very interested in photography. There was much that caught her eye and inspired her to capture it on camera, as we walked around the island.

After our picnic lunch at Mill Bay we headed on the Rathlin Trail round past the lakes to the Rue lighthouse. It warmed my heart to see our children enjoying each other’s company, away from the stresses and strains of everyday life.

We stopped periodically to appreciate the amazing views.

Eventually all the walking became too much for the youngest member of our family and she staged a sit down protest. She had to have a little rest before she was able for more trekking.

For me the highlight of our trip was when we arrived at Ushet Port and saw dozens of seals basking on the rocks. They seemed to really enjoy having an audience. We were careful not to go too close though, so as not to disturb them.

It was only a short walk from there to the Rue Lighthouse, one of three lighthouses on the Island. This instantly brought to mind the lyrics of one of Leah’s favourite songs, My Lighthouse by Rend Collective:

In my wrestling and in my doubts


In my failures You won’t walk out


Your great love will lead me through


You are the peace in my troubled sea,

oh oh
 You are the peace in my troubled sea

In the silence, You won’t let go


In the questions, Your truth will hold


Your great love will lead me through


You are the peace in my troubled sea,

oh oh
You are the peace in my troubled sea

My Lighthouse, my lighthouse


Shining in the darkness, I will follow You


My Lighthouse, my lighthouse (oh oh)


I will trust the promise,
You will carry me safe to shore

(Oh-oh-oh-oh-oh)
Safe to shore (Oh-oh-oh-oh-oh)


Safe to shore (Oh-oh-oh-oh-oh)
Safe to shore

We strolled back at a leisurely pace, stopping regularly to enjoy the beautiful scenery. We also called into the Boathouse Visitor Information Centre, where we received a very warm welcome.

One of the many things that I reflected upon as we walked along were the Katie Morag Stories by Mairi Hedderwick, which I spent many hours reading to the children when they were young. Rathlin Island is quite like how I imagined the fictional island of Struay to be from reading these beautiful books to the children.

The ferry that took us back to Ballycastle was a slower and more basic version of the boat that we had travelled across in earlier. This ride was definitely bumpier and we were very glad of our hooded jackets as they provided us with some protection from the salty waves that periodically crashed over the side!

Getting a full nights sleep on a regular basis has proved challenging since Leah died, but that night after our family day trip to Rathlin Island I got eight hours of restful unbroken sleep and I awoke the next morning feeling very refreshed.

NOTHING can separate us from HIS Love

”

One of the saddest and loneliest experiences of my life was returning home without Leah from the Children’s Hospice on Thursday the 16th January 2014. As we turned in to our drive I caught sight of our other car – a seven seater family car – and the realisation dawned “our family doesn’t need a car that size anymore”.

It had been twenty days since I had driven away from the house, with our two elder daughters. There had been an air of excitement in the car, as that night we were going to a large family get together – our first since Leah’s bone marrow transplant in August. This was going to be a very special occasion.

The rest, the say, is history.

I was by now totally exhausted, both mentally and physically. I managed a few hours sleep that night. When I got up on the Friday morning, I felt bewildered and disorientated. I had no script for what to do next. Like every other day I snatched a few moments of quietness to spend with my Saviour, reading and praying, in the hope of finding some help and strength. My concentration was very poor and I struggled to focus on the words on the page. My reading for that day in ‘Streams in the Desert‘ was Daniel 6:20:

“Daniel, servant of the living God, has your God, whom you serve continually, been able to rescue you?”

Daniel had spent the night in the lion’s den as his punishment for praying to the living God. The King had gone there first thing in the morning, hoping that Daniel was still alive, which he was.

The phrase which was highlighted in my reading that morning is that we serve a ‘living God‘, one who is unchanging and who is always there. In the reading George Mueller is quoted as saying:

“In the greatest difficulties, in the heaviest trials, in the deepest poverty and necessities, He has never failed me; but because I was enabled by His grace to trust Him, He has always appeared for my help. I delight in speaking well of His name.”

This past two years have been rough, I continually grieve and mourn for Leah. I mourn too for others that I’ve known along the way who, like Leah, have had their lives cut short by illness, by accident or by suicide. I don’t understand why there’s so much suffering in the world, I don’t understand why some seem to experience miraculous healing while others, equally loved and prayed for, die.

Still, I believe that God is a good God and that many things in this life are a mystery and beyond our understanding. I believe that NOTHING can separate us from God’s love which is ours in Christ Jesus. One of the passages of Scripture that Leah and I read together most often during her illness was Romans 8:35 – 39.

35 Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? Shall tribulation, or distress, or persecution, or famine, or nakedness, or peril, or sword? 36 As it is written:
“For Your sake we are killed all day long;
We are accounted as sheep for the slaughter.”
37 Yet in all these things we are more than conquerors through Him who loved us. 38 For I am persuaded that neither death nor life, nor angels nor principalities nor powers, nor things present nor things to come, 39 nor height nor depth, nor any other created thing, shall be able to separate us from the love of God which is in Christ Jesus our Lord.

Rend Collective, Leah’s favourite band, have a song based on Romans 8:37 “In all these things we are more than conquerors through Him who loved us.” I heard it at New Horizon in Coleraine the Summer after Leah died and I thought the words and tune were really encouraging:

MORE THAN CONQUERORS

We are more than conquerors, through Christ
You have overcome this world, this life
We will not bow to sin or to shame
We are defiant in Your name
You are the fire that cannot be tamed
You are the power in our veins
Our Lord, our God, our Conqueror

I will sing into the night
Christ is risen and on high
Greater is He
Living in me
Than in the world

No surrender, no retreat
We are free and we’re redeemed
We will declare
Over despair
You are the hope 

 

The Transfer Test

Very thankful today to receive a letter from the Education Authority (Údarás Oideachais) confirming Miriam’s place in Limavady High School for September, as I know that they are bordering on being over-subscribed for this intake.

Rachel and Leah both got an A in their 11+ and chose to go to Limavady High School, a decision that neither they, nor us, have ever regretted.

Simon and Miriam chose not to sit the Transfer Test.

I remember Rachel, shortly after she received the results of her Transfer Test, cycling around outside the house, with a hen on the handlebars of her bicycle – she just loves the great outdoors. She was very pleased that she had passed.

Her tune soon changed on the Monday, when she went into school and everyone kept saying “Oh, you’ll be going to grammar school.” She came home crying, because she didn’t want to go to grammar school.

Rachel asked me if she could swop her A grade with some other boy or girl who was distressed because they hadn’t got the grade that they wanted.

Nowadays, anytime that Rachel is home from her degree course at Queen’s University, she pops into Limavady High School, to say hello to the staff. This speaks volumes in my book.

When Leah got her A in the 11+, she was acutely aware that many of her friends had also got an A and would be transferring to grammar school.

Leah got a piece of paper and divided it down the middle. On one side she wrote the advantages of going to Limavady Grammar School, and on the other side she wrote the advantages of going to Limavady High School. Then she told me that she was going to her bedroom to pray.

A while later Leah reappeared and said “Mummy, I think that God wants me to go to the High School.”

Leah waiting for the bus outside our house on her first day at Limavady High School

In my view, a happy child is a learning child.

We have always felt that Limavady High School values our children for who they are as people, not just for what they can achieve academically.

When problems arose, as they inevitably do, during the turbulent teenage years, these were handled with care and compassion.

Leah’s education was so important to her. The staff at Limavady High School understood this and supported her in her endeavours to continue with her studies even when she couldn’t attend school because of her low immunity.

The staff maintained contact with us and supplied school work, at Leah’s request, during our prolonged stay in Bristol.

On returning from Bristol, Leah was devastated to discover that the Western Education and Library Board would only provide 4.5hrs of Home Tuition to support her in studying for her GCSEs. As an A grade student this was a bitter blow to her.

On hearing about this, the school came up with an arrangement, whereby I brought Leah into school one afternoon a week and she met privately with some of her teachers for extra support. Leah’s Hospital Consultant agreed to this, providing Leah wasn’t in the corridor when the pupils were changing classes, as her immune system was very weak.

The pastoral care that our children have received both in Ballykelly Primary School and in Limavady High School, throughout Leah’s illness and since her death, has been exceptional.

We have been so blessed as a family by the sensitivity shown to us, by the staff and pupils, from both schools.

This time last year we were approached by Leah’s Form Tutor and Head of Year, to say that staff and pupils had agreed that they would like to have a permanent memorial to Leah by creating the “Lighthouse Award” to be awarded on Prize Day. We were really pleased about this.

It is called ‘The Lighthouse Award‘ after a song by Leah’s favourite band Rend Collective. 

“My Lighthouse”

In my wrestling and in my doubts
In my failures You won’t walk out
Your great love will lead me through
You are the peace in my troubled sea
You are the peace in my troubled sea

In the silence, You won’t let go
In my questions, Your truth will hold
Your great love will lead me through
You are the peace in my troubled sea
You are the peace in my troubled sea

My Lighthouse, my lighthouse
Shining in the darkness, I will follow You
My Lighthouse, my Lighthouse
I will trust the promise,
You will carry me safe to shore (Oh-oh-oh-oh-oh)
Safe to shore (Oh-oh-oh-oh-oh)
Safe to shore (Oh-oh-oh-oh-oh)
Safe to shore

I won’t fear what tomorrow brings
With each morning I’ll rise and sing
My God’s love will lead me through
You are the peace in my troubled sea
You are the peace in my troubled sea

Fire before us, You’re the brightest
You will lead us through the storms

Christmas Greetings

Every year for as long as I can remember, I used to write a “round robin” Christmas letter. Mine was not your typical “we’re all living happily ever after” kind of letter though – I always tended to write a “warts and all” version.

So much so, that after one very difficult year, the friend who used to print it for me handed it back and asked if I could make it sound a little more upbeat!

Being authentic has always been important to me – and showing the source of my strength.

Every year when my dear mother used to read my Christmas letter she  used to respond by saying “Vicky, some day you are going to write a book.” I always laughed at such a ridiculous notion.

I have never recovered from the disappointment of getting a ‘D’ in higher level English in my Irish Leaving Certificate Examination. I went to see my english teacher in tears. Miss Wallace was very austere, but she kindly told me that if marks had been awarded for effort I would have gained an ‘A’ – I had studied so hard, but I just didn’t have the ability.

Maths, physics, biology and of course Irish, were my strongest subjects at school, but I have totally lost my mathematical ability. I struggle when helping Miriam with her Primary School maths homework.

Last year the children pleaded with me to write our Christmas letter as per usual. They wanted things to be as normal as possible. I did write it but I never sent it. I just couldn’t.

No matter how many times our Belfast haematologist smiled at us and told us how well Leah was doing, my heart told me a different story. I resolved to enjoy Christmas and then face whatever January would bring, I was struggling emotionally.

Christmas 2012, before we knew that she was unwell, Leah wrote her own contribution to our Christmas letter for the first time. Here is part of it:

This past year has been filled with many eventful times; some not so good while others were amazing. What has really kept me going is knowing that I have amazing friends and family who support me through everything but what’s more is that I have an amazing God who never fails to amaze me!

I’d like to finish with a Bible verse that I love, “If your heart is broken, you’ll find God right there; if you’re kicked in the gut, He’ll help you catch your breath” Psalm 34:18 (The Message Translation).

I hope that you have a wonderful Christmas and that this upcoming year is amazing for you.

Leah’s words, written two years ago, are as close as you’re going to get, to Christmas greetings from our house this year.

Her favourite band, Rend Collective, have released a Christmas album this year called Campfire Christmas – Leah would have loved that.

Here is their version of O Holy Night

Nothing can separate us from God’s love

November 23

As you sit quietly in My Presence, let Me fill your heart and mind with thankfulness. This is the most direct way to achieve a thankful stance. If your mind needs a focal point, gaze at My Love poured out for you on the cross. Remember that nothing in heaven or on earth can separate you from that Love. This remembrance builds a foundation of gratitude in you, a foundation that circumstances cannot shake.

As you go through this day, look for tiny treasures strategically placed along the way. I lovingly go before you and plant little pleasures to brighten your day. Look carefully for them, and pluck them one by one. When you reach the end of the day, you will have gathered a lovely bouquet. Offer it up to Me with a grateful heart. Receive My Peace as you lie down to sleep, with thankful thoughts playing a lullaby in your mind.

‘For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord.’
—Romans 8:38–39

‘You have filled my heart with greater joy than when their grain and new wine abound. I will lie down and sleep in peace, for you alone, O Lord, make me dwell in safety.’
—Psalm 4:7–8

This was my reading yesterday from Jesus Calling

Those verses in Romans 8 have special meaning for Leah and I.

Rev M. Mc Keown read that passage to us before we went to Bristol for Leah’s treatment.

In the Bone Marrow Transplant Unit and at other difficult times during Leah’s illness we read and reread that passage to remind ourselves that no matter how horrible the side effects of chemo, no matter how awful Leah’s illness was or the complications of her treatment, NOTHING but NOTHING could or would ever separate us from God’s love for us, that He showed to us by sending His Son Jesus to die on the cross for our sins.

Leah’s favourite band, Rend Collective, have a brilliant song based on that passage of Scripture:

Romans 8:31-37 (NIV)

More Than Conquerors

31 What, then, shall we say in response to these things? If God is for us, who can be against us? 32 He who did not spare his own Son, but gave him up for us all—how will he not also, along with him, graciously give us all things? 33 Who will bring any charge against those whom God has chosen? It is God who justifies. 34 Who then is the one who condemns? No one. Christ Jesus who died—more than that, who was raised to life—is at the right hand of God and is also interceding for us. 35 Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? Shall trouble or hardship or persecution or famine or nakedness or danger or sword? 36 As it is written:
“For your sake we face death all day long;
we are considered as sheep to be slaughtered.”
37 No, in all these things we are more than conquerors through him who loved us.

A Sword will Pierce your Soul

Luke 2:34-35 (NIV)

“Then Simeon blessed them and said to Mary, his mother: “This child is destined to cause the falling and rising of many in Israel, and to be a sign that will be spoken against, so that the thoughts of many hearts will be revealed. And a sword will pierce your own soul too.”

When Jesus was a baby, Mary and Joseph took him to the temple to present him to the Lord as was the custom in those days. A man called Simeon, who we are told was “righteous and devout”, took baby Jesus in his arms and spoke the above words.

What stands out for me is that Mary was told that as a result of all that her son would suffer “a sword would pierce her soul”.

Jesus came to earth to die for our sins, which is incredibly good news. Was Mary told “don’t worry, be happy“, because this would all work out for the best? No, she was told “a sword will pierce your own soul“.

Even two thousand years ago, there was a profound understanding of the love of a mother for her child, and the utter devastation that a parent feels when their child suffers and dies.

Leah faced death with serenity and without fear. I know that she’s in a much better place and is rejoicing forevermore – a princess united with her King.

However, for Horace and I, Leah’s illness and death is like a sword in our hearts. Leah’s passing has left a gaping hole in our family. Sometimes my grief is so overwhelming that I wonder if my kids feel like they’ve lost their mummy as well as their sister? Grieving just drains our emotional energy as parents.

There’s so much to process. Leah had just nine months from diagnosis to death. We’re still trying to take it all in. Sometimes I even struggle to believe that the events of 2013 really happened.

Asda have a slogan called “rollback” where they claim to rollback their prices to a time when things were cheaper. Since Leah died I’ve often fantasised about being able to roll my life back to an earlier time when ALL of my kids got off the school bus at our house everyday and I had their dinner ready.
Leah always arrived home hungry and got upset if she couldn’t smell dinner cooking as she came through the door.

This is Leah last year with Miriam’s cat Mittens.

That’s partly why I’ve still kept all of Leah’s medication. I periodically need to open her medication drawer and look inside, just to convince myself that the events of the past eighteen months really did happen. That it wasn’t all just some crazy dream from which I’m about to wake up.

I went back to work part time in the Health Service two weeks ago. I’m deeply appreciative of the fact that my employers held my post for me while I was off and were also very supportive of me throughout that time.

The weekend before I returned to work saw me plunged into an even deeper level of grieving than I had previously experienced. It was awful, just awful.

Before Leah was diagnosed I had written in my diary “Is it normal for someone to enjoy their work as much as I enjoy mine?” 

After all the experiences of the past year I wasn’t sure if I would even still like my job any more. I didn’t know if I could leave my grief aside sufficiently to be able to focus on my work.

Well, so far so good. I do still love my job and I have found myself able to focus. I find it a very welcome distraction from the sword in my heart. I’m glad to once again be a provider within the Health Service rather than a recipient of services.

I certainly don’t forget about Leah or any of my children while I’m working – I just temporarily forget my pain.

Then when my day’s work is done I walk out the door and connect with my grief and loss once more. Sometimes I’m crying before I even drive out of the car park. Still, it’s good to be back at work.

During Leah’s illness and subsequent death, I submitted three Health Service related, written complaints. None of these were ever intended to be a “witch-hunt” or to single any one person out for criticism. In my letters I always sought to emphasise the positive and to point out the strengths within the services that we were receiving, as well as highlighting the changes that I felt were needed. As a mummy I wanted the very best services possible for my daughter and for other seriously ill young people too.

Sometimes it’s not lack of money that’s the problem, it’s lack of awareness of how our behaviour as professionals impacts the recipients of the services we provide.

Yes the NHS is strapped for cash, yes there have been some awful cutbacks, but ultimately the NHS is made up of individuals, some of whom are incredibly stressed because of very heavy workloads.

However, overall the NHS has been very good to Leah and I. Overall Leah received excellent medical and nursing care across three Health Trusts. Overall we have been well supported emotionally by the health professionals involved in Leah’s care. We met some amazing individuals – consultants, doctors, nurses and ancillary workers – whose compassion and genuine care for us was very evident and whose timely hugs said more than words ever could.

Now that I am once more a provider within the Health Service I hope and pray that I also can make a positive difference in the lives of others.

As I travel to and from work I usually have Rend Collective, Leah’s favourite band, blasting out:

Joy

You’re the joy joy joy lighting my soul
The joy joy joy making me whole
Though I’m broken, I am running
Into Your arms of love

The pain will not define us
Joy will reignite us
You’re the song
You’re the song
Of our hearts

The dark is just a canvas
For Your grace and brightness
You’re the song
You’re the song
Of our hearts

 

Lost or Found?

Our church on a Sunday morning has about 150 hundred people and isn’t especially crowded. However if Horace and the kids go in and sit down before me I can never find them and have to ask one of the stewards to help me locate them!

At New Horizon the other night a friend who hadn’t seen me since long before Leah died, toured the tent of 2,500 people, before the meeting started, looking for me, because someone had told her I was there. She searched the faces of every row, every block, until she found me imbedded in the middle of a row, half way down a crowded block of seats. She beckoned me out and enveloped me in her warm embrace.

Her tears mingled with mine, as she expressed her sympathy over the death of my daughter. As a mother of four children herself, her heart aches for my loss.

The Bible says in Romans 12:15 that we are to ‘weep with those who weep’. It always comforts me to know how much others care and that they are praying for me and my family circle.

The actions of this friend also reminded me of our Saviour and how He searches for us too. In the parable of the lost sheep in Luke 15 we read:

3 Then Jesus told them this parable: 4 “Suppose one of you has a hundred sheep and loses one of them. Doesn’t he leave the ninety-nine in the open country and go after the lost sheep until he finds it? 5 And when he finds it, he joyfully puts it on his shoulders 6 and goes home. Then he calls his friends and neighbors together and says, ‘Rejoice with me; I have found my lost sheep.’ 7 I tell you that in the same way there will be more rejoicing in heaven over one sinner who repents than over ninety-nine righteous persons who do not need to repent.

We can be ‘lost’ in so many different ways – lost in sin, lost in our sorrow, lost in our emotional pain, lost in whatever has taken over our lives and has caused us to turn away from God.

The Bible tells us in Luke 19:10

“For the Son of Man came to seek and to save the lost.”

No matter how lost we are or why we are lost, Jesus is looking for us. He loves us so very much, He died on the cross to take the punishment for our sins so that we can know forgiveness and assurance of everlasting life. No matter how awful our circumstances, Jesus can give us peace in our hearts.

I hope that I never have to replicate this lovely gesture though. If I can’t find my husband and children in a crowd of 150, I would never be able to locate a long lost friend amongst 2,500!

Later that night at New Horizon we sang this amazing song by Rend Collective, Leah’s favourite band. It really blessed me.

We are more than conquerors

When my hope and strength is gone
You’re the one who calls me on
You are the life
You are the fight
That’s in my soul

Oh, Your resurrection power
Burns like fire in my heart
When waters rise
I lift my eyes
Up to Your throne

Graham Norton – a Rend Collective fan?

What is the world coming to – I never expected this Corkonian to be playing Rend Collective?

Here’s the full length version of ‘My Lighthouse’ from Leah’s favourite band, this was played by “Under Construction” at her funeral, as Leah’s coffin was being carried out of the church.

Your grace abounds in deepest waters

For the benefit of those who read this and don’t live locally, I would like to say a bit about Leah’s wake and funeral.

Leah came home on Friday (17th January) and as I said previously she was laid out in her blue formal dress in a white coffin with pale pink satin trim.

Her coffin was open in her bedroom. Surrounding her coffin on the bed were items symbolizing the different aspects and stages of her life.

These included her Girl’s Brigade hoodie and armband, her L.O.S.T. polo shirt, her school tie, items associated with Ballykelly C.O.I. Banter, her Baby Books and various photo collages.

Her pink fairy lights adorned the top of her bed and her Spotify playlist played softly in the background.

Many hundreds visited our house to pay their respects.

Visitors to our house included family, friends, neighbours, work colleagues, friends of friends, tradesmen who had worked on the house or supplied materials, the staff of Leah’s Primary & Secondary schools & people from the various youth organisations she was involved with and representatives of Sinn Fein, SDLP, & DUP – we have always encouraged our children to respect everyone’s cultural backgrounds & everyone was very welcome.

An army of women manned the kitchen and served tea, sandwiches & traybakes (cakes and biscuits, mostly homemade) to every visitor. Sandwiches, cakes, biscuits, home baking, milk, tea bags all miraculously appeared in the kitchen thanks to the kindness of friends, family and neighbours.

Soup, stew and other more substantial meals were also provided for us. Neighbours erected temporary signs giving directions to the wake and offering their driveways for “wake parking” – one of the many lovely things about rural Ireland is how everyone pulls together in a crisis.

On the Sunday morning family members gathered in Leah’s room for a time of reflection & prayer before the coffin was closed.

Neighbours & friends gathered outside the house. Then the men of the family including Nic took it in turns to carry Leah’s coffin to the road and we walked a short distance behind the hearse.

When we had driven to the main road the police (PSNI) were there ready to stop the traffic & stood to salute as the hearse pulled out into the traffic.

At Kilfennan Presbyterian Church an estimated 1,100 -1,200 gathered for the final farewell. The Girls Brigade Company had formed a Guard of Honour outside the church.

Members of the congregation had worked hard to set up relay systems outside and in overflow rooms and everything was done to perfection.

Funerals aren’t meant to be beautiful but Leah’s funeral service was beautiful – everyone says it was such a fitting tribute to who she was.

Terry Smith our church organist played the first hymn – the extended Smith family have been a great source of support to us on this journey.

The remaining music was played by “Under Construction” of which Leah’s cousin Peter is a member – Leah loved hearing them play. They were absolutely brilliant.

Rev Rob Craig, then present Moderator of the Presbyterian Church gave the address, he has known Leah from birth and everything he said reflected who she was.

Leah’s coffin was carried out of the church to one of the latest songs by Rend Collective – her favourite Christian band – called “My Lighthouse“.

After the committal at Ballyoan Cemetery, everyone was invited back to the church hall where another army of women served tea, a finger buffet and home baking (including gluten-free) to hundreds of people.

Horace and I got a chance to speak to a lot of people but unfortunately, we couldn’t get around everyone.

I would like to introduce you to yet another song that Leah and I listened to a lot, especially in Bristol.

You may ask “How come you listened to so much music?” The past 9 months have contained a lot of waiting, lot of “hanging about” and a lot of being away from home.

When Leah was well enough she used a lot of this time to study for her GCSEs, but there were many times when neither of us could barely concentrate to read or watch TV and that just leaves silence.

Sometimes silence is good – when it’s a peaceful stillness. However, when you are virtually living on a Children’s Cancer Ward and your child is unwell and everyone else’s child is unwell, silence can become a vacuum into which unwelcome thoughts crowd.

In Bristol, during those times when no words were left, I would get into Leah’s hospital bed and cuddle up beside her and this song always seemed to soothe us: “Oceans” by Hillsong

“Your grace abounds in deepest waters
Your sovereign hand
Will be my guide
Where feet may fail and fear surrounds me
You’ve never failed and You won’t start now”

Does this man have kids?

Just before 2pm they put Nic and me out of the room so that they could start the process of putting Leah on the ventilator.

The Doc wouldn’t let me stay with Leah until they administered the anesthetic that would put her to sleep because he said that he needed space to set up his equipment and I would be in his way – does this man have kids?

We left Leah awake and cuddling “Duckie” & “Bristol Gromit”. I thought my heart was going to break saying goodbye to her but I had to hide my emotions for Leah’s sake.

They said that they will call us back in about an hour. Nic, Leah & I have spent the last couple of hours listening to Leah’s favourite praise & worship music on YouTube; mostly Rend Collective Experiment & especially “My Lighthouse” – verse 2 goes

“In the silence, You won’t let go
In my questions, Your truth will hold
Your great love will lead me through
You are my peace in the troubled sea
You are my peace in the troubled sea.”

We also read from Rainbows for Rainy Days written by Catherine Campbell and Streams in the Desert.