How my grief HELPS OTHERS

I’ll always remember my and Simon’s 13th anniversary. It was late August 2016 and we’d just come back from a three-week holiday in France. We’d taken our caravan to a campsite we’d been to for a few years running, and our girls, Sydney, then nine, and Ella, five, had the time of their lives, cycling with friends and having their first taste of independence.

I had once bought Simon a sign, saying, ‘Grow old with me, the best is yet to come,’ and, after the sleepless, stressful baby years, it felt like we were getting closer to that. Life was getting easier, we agreed.

‘Thirteen years – unlucky for some but not for us,’ I wrote on