When Results Don’t Go to Plan: A Mother’s Heart on GCSE Results Day
August 21, 2025
Grief doesn’t come in one shade. It washes over us in blues, greys, and deep, unexpected shades that shift with each sunrise.
Last week, I attended the funeral of my friend’s only daughter, a bright soul who lived courageously with cerebral palsy. Her health had sharply declined over the past three years. This last month was her 16th birthday.
When her mother asked us all to come dressed in pyjamas, I admit I hesitated.
Yet, standing there in soft red satin sleepwear that felt strangely comforting, I realised how community shapes the many shades of mourning.
We often expect grief to look a certain way:
– Tears in black clothes,
– Silent prayers,
– Measured condolences.
But grief is as personal as breathing.
For this mother, those pyjamas were more than nightwear; they were gentle armour, a return to childhood innocence, a nod to the long nights spent by her daughter’s bedside.
By respecting her request, we also respected her grief. We entered her world, embraced her truth, and acknowledged her need to say goodbye on her terms.
Every parent of a child with special needs bears unique grief. They navigate not only the heartbreak of loss but also the burden of years spent advocating, caring, and hoping for small miracles.
To the families who have lost a child with extraordinary needs: your grief is valid, your rituals sacred, your stories vital.
Whether you wear pyjamas, illuminate the sky with lanterns, or scatter petals in the wind, your way of mourning deserves respect and love.
In our haste to “move on,” we sometimes forget grief is not a hurdle to overcome but a journey to honour.
It speaks in silence, in laughter that catches in our throats, in the clothing we choose to wear on a day of a funeral.
Today, let us renew our commitment to hold space for each other’s sorrow, no matter how it manifests.
Let us speak kindly, listen deeply, and trust that every grief-painted canvas has its beauty, even when the colours feel too raw to name.
To all the parents, siblings, and friends mourning a child with special needs:
May you find moments of peace in your shade of grief, surrounded by those who see, support, and believe in your right to grieve as you need.
