Ray of Light

Last night we hosted the premiere of our documentary, and honestly… wow.

I was suspiciously calm all day. I’d had a not-too-bad night’s sleep, started the morning exactly as planned with a lovely calming bath, my prescriptive three cups of tea, cwtches with Pasc, and got myself out of the door by 1pm on schedule. Even when I hadn’t heard from Rhys all day, who I rightly suspected was manically tweaking things behind the scenes, and we didn’t make contact until around 3pm, I somehow kept my cool and trusted the process.

A few key people had pulled out last minute, including Matt Pritchard and Professor Ann John, but I kept the faith in my heart that everything was going to turn out the way it was meant to. I genuinely started wondering whether my normally stressed-out brain had been hijacked by aliens.

I went straight to the JAF offices in Cardiff and filled my car with the care bags I’d created, which the JAF team had very kindly pre-filled on my behalf. Then a rather less zen Mrs Nicola Abraham MBE and I set off for the university around 3pm, both our cars packed to the brim.

Once we got there, we had a quiet cuppa in the foyer while we familiarised ourselves with the space and waited for Cherry from the university events team to guide us through the next stage.

The venue itself felt deeply nostalgic. It was the same place where I did my Graphic Communication Masters back in 2012. As I was reminiscing with Nic, my former research tutor, Dr Rachael Grainger, happened to be walking towards the exit. I shouted over to her, she looked pleasantly surprised, and joined us for a quick cuppa and catch-up. It was one of those completely unexpected little soul-enhancing moments that life sometimes throws in.

Eventually the lovely Cherry arrived and it was time to move on and meet the wonderfully helpful tech staff to suss out the AV. This included my bright idea of integrating Slido before and after the film. The other mums were due to arrive between 4 and 5, and Rhys, as predicted, arrived bang on cue around 5pm, prompt as ever and properly kitted out. He went through the film replay with the onsite crew and by 5.30 we were as ready as we were going to be.

Alison, Lisa and her husband were the first parents to arrive, and Nic promptly seconded them into helping unload the care bags from our cars. She took my car key and off they went while I cracked on with the rest. I think Nic S, aka Jude, and her family arrived around the same time as Clare, and then eventually Mandy, Nads and Paul. Everyone had a lovely catch-up and cwtches, while I pottered about doing signage and lists and more hugging in between.

Setting out the bags

It was lovely to meet Lisa and her husband for the first time, and to see our special little gang meet up again. Brought together by such devastating circumstances, we’ve somehow bonded like long-lost family.

Next to arrive was Harrison, who was filming the evening. Equal to my zen, he just quietly got on with setting up. Then, in complete contrast, the big man himself, Cullan, rocked up by 6pm. I had cunningly told him to be there by 5, so naturally he arrived exactly on my time, just before the guests started coming in.

With no coherent script and only a very loose plan, I started welcoming guests into the theatre, saving the first two rows for our VIPs and gently guiding people into loading and testing the Slido app with the first poll question. I also gave a brief housekeeping overview and introduced my lovely Samaritans volunteers from the Cardiff branch, who were there to support anyone who needed emotional help during or after the screening.

By 7pm we were all seated and primed for the first ever screening of our documentary at last.

I felt calm, in control, and completely at peace.

Once the film started, I moved from the hosting table on the stage to the entrance of the auditorium, where I could quietly keep an eye on people coming in and out. About ten minutes in, we had an unfortunate glitch, a tech issue, but it was quickly resolved and the film resumed from where it had stopped. Luckily I was mic’d up, so I was able to fill the awkwardness with a bit of banter and relieve the pressure on the guys in the tech box, like I was some kind of natural emcee.

Then onward with the film.

Only one person left the auditorium but came back later on; he’s a young man we are currently supporting on his sobriety journey, who made the decision to go to his second CA meeting instead. Everyone else seemed absolutely riveted, and I sat quietly, emotionally taking it all in on my own first proper viewing alongside them.

I was so pleased, and so relieved, that all of our mums made it through to the end. It was incredibly emotional, especially for them, and I am so bloody proud of their bravery. We had actually done it. Thanks to a tenacious and passionate Rhys, and his incredible skill, we had pulled off a powerful tribute to each of their young boys and made a film I will forever be so proud of.

As the credits rolled, I went back up to the stage. I think people clapped, though what I mainly remember is feeling relieved and glowing with pride. I invited Cullan up to co-host, and without any script at all, our natural double act just kicked in. We bounced off one another like we had somehow rehearsed it.

After the initial nerves, both of us settled into what felt very natural. We’re both comfortable with an audience, and the Slido app worked brilliantly in helping shape the post-film discussion. There were flaws, of course, if you were looking for perfection. But I felt absolutely unapologetic and sincere in what we offered. A confidence that has been slowly building in me over the last few years finally found its outlet in the most compassionate space I think I’ve ever held.

The feedback was powerful, moving and supportive. For two and a half hours, we were united in understanding and purpose, and I hope to build on that over the next few months as I start to redirect my passion in fresh ways.

Left to right - Nic A, Clare, Rhys, Mandy, Mags, Harrison, Nic S and Cullan

Team Co-alc & Co 🥰

It was a raw, beautiful and authentic event, and a moment I will savour forever. I am truly grateful to every single person who has contributed, supported and attended events on this journey, even in ways that may have seemed small at the time. Particularly everyone who was in the room in that moment.

Most of all, I am grateful to the incredible women who entrusted me with their horrific experiences and the memories of their beautiful children, who will now be immortalised forever in this work.

It will always be one of my greatest privileges and achievements to have done this for them.

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As we tried to empty the theatre, the stage became awash with audience members wanting to talk, share, connect and show their care. By the time I started looking for my car keys so I could head back to the hotel in Cardiff, where many of us were staying, it was around 9.15pm and most people had finally drifted out.

Nic A and I were due to leave early for London, the next morning, where we were scheduled to present at the prestigious Suicide&Co Summit at 2.15pm. I was also really looking forward to connecting with one of the presenters, who had made a documentary commissioned by Channel 4, and talking about possible next steps for distributing our film.

There was just one problem.

My keys had vanished.

Without them, I couldn’t get into my boot and retrieve my case. Which meant no overnight things, no meds, no chargers, no toiletries, and no chance of calmly resetting for the next day.

This is where the zen ran out.

Along with the meds locked in my imprisoned suitcase, the next twelve hours took on more of an unscripted comedy sketch.

There were frantic calls and texts flying back and forth between the mums and various other associates from the night. We retraced steps while I was on the phone to my son, who was back home in the Valleys, about an hour away, trying to locate my spare key. For a lad who can struggle to find the washer, he made a heroic effort rifling through all my usual suspect drawers in search of the elusive backup.

After nearly two very un-zen hours and still no sign of the keys, we admitted defeat and agreed there was nothing more we could do until morning. Mrs A dropped me at the hotel and we settled on a potential Plan B to explore the next day. Unfortunately, on the way we got completely Rick-rolled by the hordes leaving the Cardiff Arena after seeing Rick Astley, and ended up stuck in traffic for the next hour.

By that point our stress had tipped over into a kind of hysterical acceptance as we imagined all the possible outcomes for the next day, breaking in, key cutting, car park charges, etc 🤯

We finally got to the Travelodge around midnight, where I was met by the beautiful soul that is Mandy and her clan. We sat buzzing and debriefing in the lobby before eventually checking in, still minus my overnight case. Then, after getting lost down what felt like the longest corridor in Wales, I finally reached my room completely wrecked and without my usual night-time painkillers, charging leads, toiletries or sanity.

Naturally, sleep barely happened. I think I got about an hour, if that, and the miracle of me seeing two 5 o’clocks in the same day was one for the history books.

By around 7am, after realising I’d barely eaten the day before, I admitted defeat and headed down for the breakfast I’d booked. I was actually the first one there; a second miracle.

While grazing on freshly cooked bacon and eggs, I noticed that the lovely Angela, our seventh mum, was awake on the WhatsApp group. She hadn’t attended the screening because she had sensibly travelled to London the day before for the same summit, where she had presented last year on behalf of her incredible charity, Bags for Strife.

With about 10% phone battery left, I messaged Ange, explained the key saga, and asked if she would be willing to step in for me. Thankfully, she agreed. I had all my briefing notes in my work satchel, so I quickly scanned and sent them over, then used the last dregs of both my energy and my phone battery to let the organiser know about the last-minute change.

Pressure off.

One by one the others appeared for breakfast. Alison kindly lent me her charger, Mandy and Nads joined me, and I piggy-backed off someone’s Wi-Fi. We were all a bit broken, not from alcohol, just from lack of sleep and the emotional burnout of the previous 24 hours, but it was actually lovely to have that little pocket of time together before we all set off again.

Lisa bobbed down too before leaving, and I was then presented with two bags of beautifully wrapped gifts the group had all chipped in for, plus another specially wrapped parcel from Lisa: a stunning handmade mosaic moth she had made for me herself.

It was all so thoughtful, generous and personal. Mandy had even chosen gifts from Hebden Bridge, one of my favourite places from childhood. I was trying very hard to hold it together emotionally when the next miracle of the day happened.

My son called: Someone had phoned him to say they had found my key.

I rang the unknown number back and discovered it was one of the attendees from the night before, who had found the key in the bottom of her care bag. I do wonder whether she thought she’d won a car in a raffle we forgot to announce.

Years ago, I had attached a metal engraved fob to my keys with my son’s phone number on it, just in case my phone battery died and I couldn’t remember the number. Credit to my late mother for teaching me always to prepare for these things.

And just like that; HUZZAH - the universe provided.

All the girls gradually dispersed with hugs and tearful goodbyes. Then the culprit of chaos herself, Mrs Abraham, arrived to pick me up from the hotel so we could work out the next move. As the lovely woman who found the key lived about an hour away in the Pontypool direction, one of her team, Steph, who lived up that way and was coming into the office later, kindly agreed to collect it.

So Nic and I, her now renamed Calamity Jane, headed back to the office to defrag.

And actually, it was lovely. We got to sit, chat, replay it all, and I was able to give her a proper amount of stick for losing the key in the first place.

We heard back from our saviour Ange - who pulled off the presentation like the pro she is! Our reputation still in tact.

In the end, despite feeling absolutely wrecked, with a huge fibro and IBS flare-up, and despite crashing into bed at about 4.30pm this afternoon, only to wake in the middle of the night feeling compelled to writing this because I couldn’t get back to sleep, I learned something…

The best laid plans of mice and Mags still worked out exactly as they were meant to in the end. And sanity restored by my trusty ray of light Pascy 🙏🏻