LHS COLOUR RUN 2016

I went to get my hair done today and my hairdresser had a copy of the local newspaper ready to hand to me. It contained a full page spread of Years 13 and 14 pupils from Limavady High School participating in a Colour Run in Leah’s memory. I was aware that the Fun Run had taken place but I wasn’t aware that the photos were in the paper. The thoughtfulness of my hairdresser meant a lot – little things mean so much nowadays.

When Leah was alive, the children and I always went together to get our hair done, it wasn’t something I normally did alone. We used to go to a close relative in Donegal who has a salon in her house and we made it into a day out, stopping to shop (and get special treats) along the way. I ended up changing to a local hairdressers after Leah died, because I found it way too emotional to drive all the way to Donegal. However, the first time that I went to this hairdresser, who I had never met before, I dissolved into tears. She wasn’t fazed by my open display of emotion though and she supported me through it, in a kind and understanding way.

Four pupils organised the Colour Run and it took place at the start of their study leave. Leah would have been due to sit her A level exams and leave school this year, so this means that when her friends and classmates were taking part in activities to celebrate the end of their formal education, they found a way to include our daughter. This means so much to me, more than words can ever explain.

The pupils used the Colour Run as an opportunity to raise funds for the N.I. Children’s Hospice, the place where Leah died in peace and dignity, surrounded by love. They raised £1,000. This will bring the total donated in Leah’s memory to the N.I. Children’s Hospice to approximately £8,000. Other than the initial £2,000 donated ‘in lieu of flowers’, most of this money has been raised by staff and present/former pupils of Limavady High School  and Limavady Grammar School.

Northern Ireland Children’s Hospice is the only service of its type within Northern Ireland, caring for children and young people with very complex needs. There are over 1,300 life-limited children and young people and their families living in Northern Ireland, who need the specialist care that only the Children’s Hospice can provide. The Children’s Hospice aims to meet the emotional, social and spiritual needs as well as the physical ones, enabling children and young people to make the most of their lives within the limitations of their illness.

Leah would so approve of all of this fundraising for the Children’s Hospice. Leah absolutely loved children. When Leah was of Primary School age, I worked in a setting that provided respite day care for children with life limiting conditions, some of whom also received care from the Children’s Hospice. Leah used to ask me the first names of the little ones who were really unwell, so that she could pray for them. I remember Leah telling me that she prayed every night for Erin, Beth and Ella, amongst others.

Sometimes at work we had ‘family days’ and my children came to these too. I can picture Leah, aged around eight years old, sitting on the couch beside Erin and her mummy. Erin’s little fist was tightly clasped around Leah’s index finger. Leah sat there smiling, very content to at last have met one of these little ones for whom she prayed so faithfully.

Sadly, Erin died on the 16th April 2012, aged 7 years. In May 2014 when our family went to the Garden of Remembrance at the Children’s Hospice to place Leah’s memorial stone, we were accompanied by Erin’s parents. We placed Leah’s stone near Erin and her brother Martin’s memorial stones. I thought about them now in heaven, no longer bound by the confines of illness and disability.

Thank you to all of the staff and pupils of Limavady High School who worked together to make this Colour Run happen. Thank you for remembering our daughter in this way and for raising this money for the Children’s Hospice. Leah would be so proud of you all.

Emotional Intelligence

For the past approximately eighteen years, I have been visiting a woman with a significant learning disability several times a year, when she comes into respite in Derry. When our children were small they used to come with me. Sometimes I take her out for a walk or bring her out to our house, other times I sit and chat with her in the respite facility where she is staying.

Tonight when I went to visit her, she had a beautiful flower arrangement ready to give me to put on Leah’s grave. She had got one of her carers to take her to a local shop earlier in the day to purchase it. She expressed concern that it wasn’t ‘good enough‘, but to me it was absolutely beautiful, especially as it was adorned with love.

This woman is quite comfortable talking to me about Leah and about grief and sadness, she always checks with me that I’m not ‘bottling things up‘. She doesn’t for one minute expect me to be ‘over it‘ in any shape, form or fashion. Despite her very significant learning disability, she totally gets it.

I reflected inwardly on how ‘emotional intelligence‘ bears no relation to IQ or academic achievement.

After I had said goodbye to her, I went straight to Leah’s grave with these very special flowers. As I stood there in the darkness sobbing quietly, a form emerged from the shadows and a friendly voice said ‘hi‘.

It was a former school friend of Leah’s, a young girl who’s had to deal with some very significant challenges in life. She was en route to an after school activity and recognised my car parked outside the cemetery. She took the time and the trouble to walk through the cemetery in the pitch dark, knowing exactly where she would find me.

I very much appreciated her thoughtfulness.

Thank You

I absolutely love the beautiful, grace filled, writings of Kara Tippetts, who recently died from cancer.

In this, one of her older blog posts, she writes –

“As I reached the parking lot, the dear woman and her husband, who asked me my hard times of day, jumped out of their car. Her husband wrapped me in a big hug and said, I’m 6:30 every day, and she called to me, I’m 10 every night. I was undone. I cry now thinking of this couple doing battle with me in my weakest moments. I would like to say those times of day are getting easier. They are not, but I know I’m not alone in them.”

As I read this, I think of the many who prayed for us (and continue to pray for us), when we were barely able to pray for ourselves.

So many days and nights spent in hospital with Leah, being told things no parent ever wants to hear, feeling so alone, yet always knowing I wasn’t alone.

In the quietness of our hospital room, a text or a Facebook message would come in, with a word of encouragement, or an assurance that somebody, somewhere, was praying for us.

How could we ever have got this far, without the many who have supported us emotionally, spiritually and practically?

One of my many favourite Bible verses has long been

1 Samuel 23:16 (NIV)

“And Saul’s son Jonathan went to David at Horesh and helped him find strength in God.”

It’s not always about preaching and teaching, sometimes it’s about a hug, a squeeze of the hand, a thoughtful but inexpensive gift, or just being there for somebody, letting them know that someone really does care.