As I tilt my head back, and look upwards towards the sky, through the holes in the clouds I can see stars shining through. They are hung limitlessly high, and dazzle with a sparkle unmatched. It is when I return my gaze downward, that the limitless low of grief settles deep within. Not even the cold night air invading its way to my bones can break my despondent attire. For the first time in sixty-eight-years, sixty-nine-now, this world is without Joan. I am without mom… She’s gone… Pain took her, and now pain holds me. It pulls the corners of my lips down so as to refuse a smile. It claws at the corners of my eyes, making them sad. It dances in front of me, mocking me with images that I wish were real. All they are though, are dreams left to be dreamt, and never to be realized. For the reality is, my mom, and the mom to my brothers and sisters, is dead. Only memories and wishful thinking remains. And wish, I do…

 

The only thing that the winter’s night air can touch, or at least make me feel, is the bitter slap against my tear stained cheeks. Only one or two tears have fallen. Nothing continuous, but stained they are. My heart bleeds and my eyes leak. My mind wanders in search of my mom, yet reality keeps her from touch. I close my eyes I can see her. If I listen hard enough, I can hear her. But when I open my eyes and retrain my hearing, all I am confronted with is empty space and the static of nothing. The absence of anything. The world is still here, and she is not. I am supposed to recite ‘happy birthday’, but to whom? She’s gone. This world and the hard life she led, took her from us. Took her from me, the youngest bird to flee the nest…

 

I stare at the empty chair beside me, and try to put her there. For one more chance to share a laugh, or even just a giggle. But mostly, for one last chance to say “Mum, I love you”. All I end up saying though, to an empty space, is: “Mum, I miss you… I gotta do this world alone… and this world’s been hurtin’ me for a while now. I’m scared. Mum, I miss you…”

 

This world has two parts; limitless high’s, and bottomless low’s. Stars and despair. Breaks in the clouds, or sprawling grey’s resting upon the horizon.

 

Tonight, well, tonight, I don’t see many stars… Just the absence of anything.

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I’m Matthew

Welcome to the official blog of Matthew Heneghan — author of A Medic’s Mind and Woven in War, and host of the trauma-focused podcast Unwritten Chapters.

As a former Canadian Armed Forces medic and civilian paramedic, I’ve lived through the raw edges of trauma, addiction, grief, and healing. Through honest storytelling and lived experience, I write and speak about PTSD, trauma recovery, mental health awareness, and resilience — especially from the lens of veterans and first responders.

If you’re searching for real-life stories of overcoming adversity, the effects of service-related trauma, or insight into the recovery process after hitting rock bottom — you’re in the right place. My goal is to foster connection through shared experience, break stigma, and offer hope.

Explore the blog, tune into the podcast, and discover how writing became a lifeline — and might just become yours, too.

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