Last Sunday I went to mass. Not because I’m a good Catholic, but to stand beside a family who are hurting.

One year ago, Elma, a kind, gentle, lady of tremendous strength died suddenly.  She was a wife, a daughter and a wonderful mother. While a young mother’s loss is always enormous, this family were already carrying a heavy load. Three years previously they had lost their beautiful young boy, Ben, aged just six years.

Such was the strength of Elma and her husband, that in their darkest moment they consented to donate their young boys organs. Their generosity and strength meant that other young children got a second chance at life.

It’s still unbelievable to imagine one family can have such tragedy visited upon them and even more incredible to try to imagine how they survive. How do you care for a young daughter and a teenager while grieving so deeply? How do you get by as a young teenager without your mum?

Last Sunday, as prayers were said and hymns rang out I imagined what Elma might say if she was watching.

But I don’t think she’d say anything.

Not because I don’t believe she wasn’t close by, but because she’d be lost for words at the strength and resilience her husband, daughter and family has shown.

Not everyone has that strength. I have little doubt she is very proud.

“Courage does not always roar. sometimes courage is the quiet voice at the end of the day saying, I will try again tomorrow.” (Mary Anne Radmacher)