Watching my lot race around the garden, I winced.
‘Careful!’
I laughed, in spite of myself, as the boys rugby tackled each other.
It was August 1998, and I was already a mum of seven.
He opened up now and then, but I could tell he was down My partner Andrew and I hadn’t planned on having so many, but Tammy, then 10; David, 8; Stephen, 6; Kirsty, 5; Leon, 4; James, 2, and Kevin, 1, came along one after another.
There was never a moment of peace, yet ours was a house full of fun.
Then, in December 2006, Andrew, 44, died of a heart attack. I was devastated.
But I muddled on through the grief and, as the children reached adulthood, we grew closer than ever.
By 2016,…
