I am writing this having just come back to work after the Christmas break.

I badly needed to turn my brain off and into neutral for a couple of weeks.  It had been a stressful time at The Beacon before the holidays.

We lost a lovely young man, Trent Kilpatrick.  We all attended his funeral the day we should have been having our Christmas lunch.  He ws 33 years old when he died.  I sat in the church watching the photos scroll down of him as a beautiful baby, to a toddler and on to a little boy.  My thoughts turned to the sadness of a new little soul entering the world that, through no fault of his own, missed out on so much of what makes life joyful and worth living, because of his illness.

We all cried buckets but knew his suffering was over and he ws free at last.

Two days ago I was again sitting in church watching the photos of another special person scroll down.  We lost a wonderful vibrant woman called Beverly Wilson Jones.  She was the same age as me, 58.

She was stubborn, funny, irreverent and very strong emotionally.  She was ready to go, sick of the pain and suffering and I found myself smiling as I imagined her grinning from ear to ear.

That makes 16 deaths in ten years.  In my low moments I think I can't bear any more losses and there will be more.  Then I lift and think "yes" I can.  They all teach me so much.

I watch them bear the unbearable and still smile.  As they are coming to the end I look into their eyes and see they have lost hope.  It is the saddest look and I am utterly helpless.  It is the human condition and to be avoided.  We will all follow in their footsteps.  When my turn comes, I hope I do it well.  I have had the best of teachers.

Lynne Parsons