In a little under 6 weeks’ time, another milestone will slam into us. It should be Evie’s 18th Birthday and the house should be full of laughter and us celebrating her transition from child to young woman. As Evie was one of the oldest in her year at school, it also means the beginning of a stream of 18th birthday parties for her friends and the inevitable tidal wave of social media posts. The whole thing serves to ram home the fact that she isn’t here and her future has gone.

We decided over a year ago to mark her 18th birthday by gathering together those people that stood by us when our lives were at their darkest, those that didn’t turn their back on us (so many did), change the subject every time Evie’s name was mentioned, and still talk to us about her. The bereaved parents among you will know what I am talking about. Poignantly, and quite by coincidence, it is 18 people that will be coming together, along with one Ukrainian who now lives with us. Our decision to offer a home to a refugee driven by the kindness of a 13 year old girl whose lead we follow. Fitting really.

On the day, we will be eating her favourite food - salmon, fillet steak and an Eton mess of sorts, and drinking wines from her birth year 2004, wines that I have been collecting since she was little in readiness for this very moment in time, but wines that she should have been sharing with us. But they are also wines that are as beautiful and elegant as she is. And we will be playing one of her favourite games too - a real-life version of Cluedo, a murder mystery with actors playing their part. Evie’s young agile brain could out think us at Cluedo and she won more often than not. We never let her win, she had to fight for it.

Let’s not hide from the fact that the day for us will be excruciatingly painful from the second we wake until we finally fall asleep. But it is also a day to sit quietly and talk about her among friends. It also marks the start of 4 months of other milestones that follow each year until we reach the anniversary of her death in January and the funeral in February.

I have never been one to shy away from confronting the pain of her death, and the 24th September 2022 could quite possibly be the biggest one in a long time. It is a huge beacon shining a light on what we have lost, of what could and should have been, of what will never be. A lot of tears will be shed that day, by us, by friends.

If you are looking for the uplifting optimistic ending here, then I regret to tell you there isn’t one. Sometimes, there is just darkness and pain. Pats and I are ready for it. We are ready to confront it.