Five Little Boys Looking at this photograph, you’ll see five little boys. I see my childhood. I see my big brother, Alfie. I see a future we all believed we’d grow old together. Less than two weeks before my 21st birthday, Alfie died by suicide. To the world, he became another statistic. To me, he was my big brother. From that moment, our lives became divided into two parts. Life before Alfie. Life after Alfie. We were a brotherhood of five. Then, overnight, we had to learn what it meant to be four. People often say time heals. I don’t believe it does. You simply learn to carry the grief. As the years passed, each of Alfie’s four younger brothers became older than he ever had the chance to be. Even Aaron. The brother we all looked up to remains forever young. I often wonder about the life he never got the chance to live. I never imagined our family would face that heartbreak again. But we did. Years later, my beautiful 13 year old niece, Olivia, died by suicide. Watching my brother Aaron lose his only daughter was unimaginable. Not long afterwards, we lost Aaron too. Suddenly, we weren’t four brothers anymore. We were three. Even now, I still catch myself saying I’m one of five brothers. Then reality catches up with me. The truth is, there are only three of us left. But in my heart, there will always be five little boys in that photograph. On 20 September, I’ll run the Belfast Half Marathon in aid of PIPS Suicide Prevention. The marathon falls on what would have been Aaron’s birthday. I can’t think of a more meaningful way to honour Alfie, Aaron and Olivia. I’m not asking you to imagine what our family has lived through. I wouldn’t wish that on anyone. I’m simply asking that, if you can, you help support a charity working every day to stop another family from living our story. If our story encourages just one person to reach out, or your donation helps save even one life, every mile will have been worth it. Forever young. Fortune favours the brave x