God Bless You Sweet Keavy

As has become a tradition on my blog I would today like to take the time out to celebrate what would have been Keavy's birthday. Keavy, at eight, was the eldest of the Greshlets to lose their lives that terrible day last September and the one I remember most fondly; but only because she always chatted so freely whilst I was with her. Quite delightfully she would plonk herself down next to me or sometimes on my lap and, with no shyness or pretensions, chat happily about a myriad of subjects.

Her mot endearing characteristic was the genuine interest she took in other people. Not only happy to tell you all about herself and her interests but equally she was keen to know about you and what you were up to. A rarity in one so young.

The memory I cling to desperately was the last day I saw the children, just weeks before the accident. Sat in their garden enjoying the sunshine. Watching Keavy perform ever more daring manoeuvres on the trampoline. So happy when you saw one she was particularly pleased with, but not demanding your attention. A lost potential that breaks my heart.

Sleep tight little one. Is túisce a éagann an óige mar aon leis an mhaith!