9/01/14

I don’t know the Scottish actor/comedian Ford Kiernan, but today the news broke that he lost his twelve year old son.

Lost is a strange word for it.

His son is dead.

Lost leaves the door open for something being found, but for Ford, his wife, his extended friends and even the friends of his son, the term falls short of what they are dealing with today.

No one is going to stumble across his son and think ‘that was lucky’ and return him to his family and friends.

Lost just doesn't cover it really.

The press will of course look to provide information about what has specifically happened, but to an extent that isn't relevant as right now the ending of this child’s life will eclipses everything else for those who knew him.

The brutal finality must feel like a crushing weight pressing down on all who loved him.

I am sitting here writing this and my daughter is home from school having lunch.

I can hear her from where I sit.

She’s talking to a friend and laughing.

My son is probably having lunch with mates at college, and I hope he is laughing to.

Ford Kiernan doesn't have that today, and that thought feels like something jagged and sharp rubbing at me.

Something that scours the skin exposing nerve endings that I would rather didn't’t see the light of day.

As I said I don’t know him, and I’m not empathizing as he is a celebrity.

I am empathizing because I am a father, and because right now so many others will be facing a similar day, and it is that thought that is applying a dark pressure.

I sincerely hope that life moves on, and at some point the sun does come out for anyone whose is being touched just now by a similar experience.

No day is ever a good day when death looms so large in it.

Also could I ask people not to share this post.

It’s not really appropriate to do so, and the intent in writing it was not to garner hits or promote the blog.

Basically it is simply the sharing of some thoughts.

Thank you.