Dearest much-loved ‘children’,

MANY years ago, when I eventually found the courage to leave, I should have written this letter to each of you... and then talked to all of you. I never did. I never could, and that is never an excuse or never good enough. To the present day I am confronted daily with feelings of sadness, shame and huge feelings of inadequacy that at the time I so, I feel, failed you all.

Yes you were all now “grown up” I thought... but you my youngest I now know you weren’t. Not one of you was in retrospect, and as the years have long passed I know that no age is a good age to see your parents separate.

No one person can ever completely enter the mindset or the relationship of another couple. Your dad and I, maybe to the onlooker, appeared like a happy couple. I am told by many, years later, that it appeared so. And there were many, many happy times, of course. But for me I was, I felt, in a very lonely, loveless relationship. I’m not 100pc sure when I began to feel that but possibly mostly on the many, many nights — often five to six a week when I was left alone, on the many holidays you and I spent together without your dad and on the weeks of long silences I endured without ever really knowing or being told why...

But this is not why I write now. I write this letter now because I want you to try to understand that having had the courage to finally leave when you had all gone, I then struggled so badly. I felt a failure. A failure as a mother, a failure as a wife, a failure for my lack of stamina to stay, a failure for giving up your home... the place you all loved... a failure as a woman. Those feelings engulfed me like a tidal wave, sucked my oxygen, paralysed and flooded my body until I felt only thoughts of wanting to end everything. I was weak and very isolated. That is when I sought help, and the recovery began.

I often recall phoning each of you just to hear your voices, but then just becoming an incoherent mess of tears at the other end... I’d hear your voice say “Mam... are you OK, Mam..?” and I’d have to hang up... I couldn’t speak, I couldn’t cope. I was so vulnerable.

Years and years have passed now and I watch you all in your own relationships and thankfully we now have happy times together always. I know now you never blamed me or judged me and I see you all work harder perhaps at your own relationships and with your own children as a consequence. I know you each understand life better now but I still struggle to forgive myself for the hurt and pain you all endured. I still see the effects of that in each of you in different ways.

My own childhood and many, many years in boarding school from a tender age made me resilient and I am strong. But I learned that even the strong person needs to be loved, and strength does not always exclude vulnerability or help us to have the courage to do the right thing.

I should have talked with you all... I never did, and I ask you to understand and forgive that. Because I’ve never forgiven myself... to this day. I love you all so very much and my gorgeous grandchildren bring me huge joy. Thank you!

I often dream you are all young again... and when I wake up I still cry. Because I am old now and wish I had those years back. Maybe I could have been better... maybe I could have found the courage to talk...

Mam Name and address with Editor