‘Running has helped heal the pain of losing my husband and son’
After her son and husband died within a week, Rhian Burke was paralysed by grief. But, she tells Victoria Lambert, running has allowed her to show emotion again
Rhian Burke was sipping a morning cup of tea in her kitchen in February 2012 when she saw two policemen approach the house. “I knew something terrible had happened,” she says. “I slid off the chair on to the floor. I could hear my mum shouting as an officer told me that my husband Paul had passed away.
“I didn’t cry. I told him it couldn’t be true. And then I went into shock and began retching.”
Paul, a 33-year-old marketing director – who had left their home in the south Wales village of Miskin just 90 minutes earlier – had been found under a bridge. Five days before, Rhian, then 34, and her husband had watched their youngest child, George, die following an unexplained seizure. He had been just a year old.
Not surprisingly Rhian sunk into a deep grief, suffering post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD). “In my eyes, my life was over; I was paralysed by loss. I couldn’t leave the house for six months.”
Five years on, she is almost unrecognisable. Not only has Rhian found a new inner confidence, she has established bereavement charity, 2 Wish Upon A Star. And on Sunday, she will line up with more than 30,000 runners to tackle the London Marathon.
She will be racing for her charity, herself and for Heads Together – the mental health campaign led by the Duke and Duchess of Cambridge and Prince Harry. Alongside her will be a team of 10 runners who all have a variety of issues, ranging from postnatal depression to OCD. These men and women have found themselves at the starting line thanks to a two-part BBC documentary called Mind Over
Marathon. The programme, presented by Nick Knowles, set out to find a group of potential marathoners for whom the real prize would not be the finisher’s medal at the end of the 26 miles, but the challenge of turning their lives around. Supported by psychiatrists, plus experts in fitness and nutrition, the runners were recruited via social media and have spent the past six months attending training camps and having their progress monitored.
Before the tragic events of February 2012, Rhian had never had a reason to question her mental resilience. She worked as Head of PE at an independent school in Cardiff, and had three children with Paul (Holly, now nine and Isaac, eight). “Life was good,” she says. Indeed, Rhian recalls George’s first birthday: “We had a tea party. His little friends came round. There was no sign of illness.” A week later, George was crawling around the playroom, when he rolled on to his back and stopped moving. Then he began fitting. He was rushed to nearby Royal Glamorgan hospital where staff desperately tried to save his life. Two and a half hours later, he was dead, subsequently diagnosed as having suffered flu and pneumonia.
“My dad cried out, ‘No, not our little star’. But there were no tears from Paul or I. We had been hit by shock. It’s very difficult to understand how it happened so quickly. He hadn’t even had a runny nose.”
The family returned home that night; George’s birthday presents were still piled in a corner of the room, the cards still on display.
“Paul and I sat on the bed. We couldn’t sleep,” recalls Rhian. “I can remember waiting to hear George on his baby monitor. Then Holly and Isaac asked where their brother was. I chickened out and said he was poorly in hospital.
“Holly, then four, said, ‘I can’t believe you’ve left him on his own, he’ll be lonely’. That’s when I knew we’d have to get ourselves together, for their sake.”
The couple went into autopilot, trying to keep life as normal as possible. Their south Wales community poured out love and support, but they were surprised to be offered no grief counselling. “We went to say goodbye to George. The staff took prints of his hand, and cut curls for us to take away. But he was still undressed and lying in this horrible frilly crib. It could have been done so much better.
“When you give birth to a child, you get seen constantly by health visitors and midwives. But when one dies, there is nothing.”
The couple hugged and talked. “We were close in those few days. Paul showed more emotion than me. He was normally the strong one, and I suddenly seemed to take on that role. We were crippled with pain, but very much together not torn apart.“
There was no sign, she says, that he was contemplating taking his own life.
On the Monday morning, Paul left in his car, ostensibly to go to work. Rhian had been planning to visit the beach to write a poem for George’s funeral, until the visit from the police. “Then,” she says, “my family was torn apart.”
She feels no anger towards her late husband. “What happened was not his fault. He was traumatised. I wonder if he was questioning how he, as a father, could have behaved differently. But we had had no support, no one to sit down and say that we hadn’t done anything wrong.”
Paul and George had a joint funeral at Llandaff Cathedral. “I had to follow two coffins in a hearse. My husband and son. How do you believe that?”
Her parents, who had moved into the family home on the night of George’s death, ended up staying for two years. What also kept her going was the growing conviction that, had some kind of help existed, Paul might still be alive. “His death was totally preventable,” says Rhian.
With that in mind, she set up 2 Wish Upon a Star to support families who have experienced the sudden loss of someone under 25. The charity now covers the whole of Wales and employs Rhian full time. “It’s been good for Holly and Isaac to meet other siblings in their position, and I get to meet other bereaved parents.”
Her involvement with Mind Over Marathon also saw Rhian meet the young Royals. In a touching exchange, captured on film, she asked Prince William – who was 15 when his mother, Diana, Princess of Wales, died – what the future holds for Holly and Isaac. “I worry about them growing up, they’ll be OK, won’t they?” Reasssuring her, he replies: “With a mum like you they’ll be absolutely fine.”
In the documentary, the Prince has also spoken openly about the shock of losing a loved one. It’s something Rhian can identify with. “People think bereavement is sadness and tears, but it affects the whole of your mental wellbeing. I was still very much in shock. Only last year did I start coming to terms with what happened. I began having psychotherapy, which has turned my life around.”
Learning to run has been hugely powerful, too. But for Rhian, the hardest part of preparing for this weekend’s marathon was not the training. “For me, it was to open up. I’ve had to stay strong for so long and never let anyone see my emotions. But this made me vulnerable. I hope it helps others to know that the mask can come off.”
Mind Over Marathon starts on BBC One tonight at 9pm. For more information or support around bereavement, visit 2wishuponastar.org