After my young son Ruairí (Ru-ree) devastatingly died in 2018, just six weeks after his first birthday I turned to books as a way to help my older son Charlie who was 7 at the time. Supporting Charlie grieve the death of his brother was my biggest and most important challenge, second only to facing my own grief. Yet I couldn’t find what he needed to help him. Most of the books I found were abstract or about the death of pets, grandparents or parents dying. They often used confusing language too, like ‘Saying Good bye’. And I couldn’t find any specifically about the unique heartbreak of a sibling dying.

At the same time Charlie was drawing a lot, and he drew a picture of his brother going to heaven in a rocket. That magical idea inspired me to write the story of my boys, as brothers together. Initially I wrote the story in the note’s app on my phone, I think I wanted to capture all those sweet memories of my two boys’ lives together. From time to time I edited it and added to it, mostly details about Charlie’s experiences grieving his brother. I’m not sure exactly when, but at some point the idea that it could be a children’s book started to take shape in my mind. It could be the book we needed but couldn’t find.

Then, in late 2021 I felt brave and able enough to truly give it a go. With Charlie as Chief Editor ensuring I captured everything exactly right we set about creating our book. I was very fortunate to find Beth Cole who illustrated our memories wonderfully. And finally, in January 2023, I published Ruairí’s Rocket to heaven.

The story as a book had grown into one of heartbreak and hope, of hurting and healing, of being happy again with sadness inside our hearts, and of everlasting love between my boys. With gentle illustrations and clear language (for ages 4+) the book explores feelings like sadness, fear, anger and confusion and looks at different ways to express grief and remember siblings, through Charlie’s experiences.

Knowing that our book can offer comfort and support to young children and their families during their own incredibly difficult times means the world to us. Each time Ruairí’s Rocket helps another family, Ruairí’s life continues to make a difference.

The original rocket that Charlie drew hangs in our home. He went on to edit it as it looks now in the book, a blue rocket with PlayStation symbols: blue because it was his brother’s favourite colour and PlayStation symbols because, well because they are so cool! He is very proud of it, and I am incredibly proud of him.

All profits from sales go to Shooting Star Children’s hospice who provided me and my family with truly life saving bereavement support in the years after Ruairí died.

You can find out more about book at https://storiesforourhearts.co.uk

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“There was a book about the death of a grandparent and one about a Mummy dying. There were books for bereaved parents, but seemingly still none in the mainstream children’s book market about a baby or a child dying. Any that I did find were out of print. I reflected on those first conversations we had and continued to have as a family after Lydie’s death, George and Henry’s wish to talk about Lydie and the overall need for a picture book to help grieving siblings.“

Remembering Lydie

I will always have a daughter. I will always be Lydie’s mummy.  

Twelve years ago our baby daughter died. I had carried, nurtured, loved and felt this new life grow within me for 6 months. As a family we had sung, rocked, jigged, danced, talked and laughed with this little person. I had felt their defiant little kicks and movements, we had started to imagine our lives and future together and eagerly awaited the day we would all meet. A long awaited brother or sister for our 3-year-old son George.  

Lydie was born on Easter Sunday in the main delivery department of our local hospital. She had died 3 days earlier. There was no bereavement suite, no specialist bereavement midwife. We were surrounded by cries of newborn babies as I laboured and gave birth to our lifeless baby, a beautiful daughter.  

We held Lydie for two hours before we had to leave her. Wrapped ever so gently in a white blanket I had chosen for her, we gazed at her perfect little face, breathing her in, placing gentle kisses on her forehead. We stroked her little cheeks ever so gently and traced the contours of her nose and rose coloured lips. We had her blessed by the hospital chaplain, a truly lovely kind lady who cried with us. Leaving Lydie was unbearable and as she was taken away and we found the strength to move, all the delivery room doors had been closed by the midwives. The silence was deafening, we had never felt so empty and alone.  

I took half of Lydie’s birth blanket home with us. I slept with it wrapped around a teddy bear desperate to hold her again, to smell her, to feel close to her. I sung “Somewhere over the Rainbow” to her every night. We read her a bedtime story in the chapel of rest where she lay in her tiny white casket the night before her Thanks Giving Service. As the long black car pulled up outside our house I felt rooted to the spot, my legs would not carry me, no parent should have to say goodbye to their child. This was the last journey we would take with our daughter. 

Her casket lay between us, a pretty little bouquet of white and yellow spring flowers that I had chosen for her placed on the top. Flowers I had imagined picking together. At the crematorium we carried her in so carefully and laid her down. We sat alone, inviting friends and family to join us in thought and spirit and as the music we had chosen started and the curtains closed around my little girl I broke down and my body gave in to the agonising pain of loss.  

We did not take George to Lydie’s service, parental instinct naturally yearns to protect our children, but there is no going around the pain of grief, you have to go through it. With no bereavement support for us as a family we desperately struggled to find the right words to explain Lydie’s death to George. We couldn’t find any books suitable to read with him that might help him to understand what had happened. George had not lost a pet, his baby sister had died and even at 3 years old, he was grieving.  

“Mummy had a baby in her tummy,” and we’d started to prepare for a brother or sister for George so naturally his first question when she died was “Where has she gone?” 

How do you find the words?  

George wanted to take toys to Lydie, asked if he could go in a rocket to see her, drew her pictures, asked if she was alone and cold. He asked lots of questions which were difficult and painful to answer as his parents and often very direct. These were mixed with moments when he seemed to be coping and played with his toys.  

We tend to not want to talk about death unless we have to, certainly not to our children, sometimes not even to each other as adults and I later heard that young children are often referred to as “The Forgotten Mourners”. Tragically thousands of families and siblings every year have to manage and talk about the death of a child. Children under 7 years of age do not understand the concept of death due to their Cognitive Development but that doesn’t mean they don’t grieve. As adults we may change our beliefs on death and beyond as we get older however death, in its painful finality, needs to be made clear in order for children to process their grief.  

It was extremely hard for us but we learned we had a much better chance of moving forward in our grief as a family in a healthy way if we talked about it, together. Several weeks later on a sunny morning we went as a family to scatter Lydie’s ashes in her special place; a beautiful secluded camellia glade, with tall trees and a little bench, streams running nearby and stepping stones. A place we can go forever to be close to her as a family. 

The days and years since Lydie’s death have been filled with deep sadness along with great beauty and happiness. George gave us a reason to live. On Lydie’s first birthday I found out I was pregnant. Pregnancy after loss was all consuming for us as a family, Henry, a brother to George and Lydie, was born 37 weeks later. Our lives’ continued, as they must and we moved forward together in our grief as a family.  

When George was about six he asked if we could send Lydie a piece of cake on her birthday and if a balloon would take it to her, the most beautiful image. Henry started to ask about Lydie when he was 3 years old, 8 years after her death and so I looked for a picture book again. There was a book about the death of a grandparent and one about a Mummy dying. There were books for bereaved parents, but seemingly still none in the mainstream children’s book market about a baby or a child dying. Any that I did find were out of print. I reflected on those first conversations we had and continued to have as a family after Lydie’s death, George and Henry’s wish to talk about Lydie and the overall need for a picture book to help grieving siblings.  

After I finished the book I approached many of the mainstream publishers in the UK children’s book market but it seemed there was still a hesitancy for various reasons to talk about baby loss and sibling death, so I decided to publish the book myself. 

 “Where are you Lydie?” is a special picture book, sensitively written and illustrated for children between the ages of 3 and 7 years old. It is a facilitative story and guide for young bereaved siblings and their parents to explore death and bereavement together and to start those difficult conversations or explore the questions that may come up after the death of a baby. Grandparents, extended family members, teachers, caring support professionals, peers and friends can also share the story too.  

The book is a true story of love through loss and describes the real conversations we had with George, the conversations George and Henry have had together and how we chose to remember Lydie on her first birthday and every year since. Writing about death doesn’t mean there can’t be an uplifting message, a message of hope, however sad.  

A very good friend once said to me that loss would always be part of our family tapestry and I have come to feel far more at peace with that over the years compared to how I felt back then. It’s never going to go away, the loss, but you can find a way to live with it, to grow with it.  

I am so proud of all 3 of my children and so very thankful to all the parents and individuals who have reached out to me since I published the book. I really hope that our family can continue to support other families who tragically may have lost a child.  

“Where are you Lydie?” has reached over 1000 families and is now in its second Edition.  

It is not for profit.  

To find out more about Emma’s journey and to buy this special book please visit www.emmapoore.co.uk or contact Emma directly on emma@emmapoore.co.uk 

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This is a beautifully told and illustrated book for children, explaining the cycles of life. It is extremely moving but we love it and highly recommend it.

Now celebrating it’s sixth year,  this beautiful and moving story follows the first year in the life of a lone evergreen tree growing in the heart of the ancient oak woodland of the New Forest. The evergreen is befriended by the oldest oak who has lived for hundreds of years. When winter arrives all the oak trees must go to sleep – but of course evergreens never sleep. Finally, after a long, cold and lonely winter, spring brings both sadness and joy to the little tree.

Join the old oak – the barn owl – the ponies and the squirrels in this enchanting, universally praised, life affirming classic.

Visit the Lonely Tree website – http://www.thelonelytree.co.uk/ for more information, fun things to spot, hidden secrets and to purchase this wonderful book.

You can follow the Lonely Tree on Twitter @LonelyTreeNews @HallidayBooks

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This is an uplifting story written for children aged 5-9 years about death and dying. Beautifully illustrated, Saying Goodby to Hare is full of honesty and warmth.  As young Rabbit witnesses the life, illness and death of his dear friend Hare, the story explores some of the feelings and questions children have at this time.

Inspired by the author’s own personal experience of supporting her young children through the illness and death of their father – the story is sensitively written to give a positive, thoughtful message about death and dying. The book includes guidance notes for the adult supporting the child.

This book is available to buy through Amazon.

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Click here to be directed to Amazon where you can purchase the book directly.

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