“Children don’t come with a rule book, especially when it comes to explaining that a parent has died at such a young age”
Reservist Widow, Emma Harris-Coyne, struggled to find the words to tell her young children that their daddy had taken his own life. Emma explains how the death of a parent at such a young age has impacted her children and how they have benefited from the support of Scotty’s Little Soldiers.
The words “I’m sorry, but he’s taken his own life” will never leave Emma Harris-Coyne. Late on 19th October 2011, Emma received a knock at the door from two police officers, who gave her the devastating news that her partner, the father to her sons and stepdad to her daughter, Keri David Ewart Britton, had taken his own life.
Their young children, Euan, Deacon and step daughter, Erin, who were just two years, 11-months, and six years old at the time, were fast asleep upstairs when the police officers arrived. Emma’s thoughts immediately turned to her children.
Given the age of her children at the time, Emma, now 36, became overwhelmed with panic thinking about how she was going to explain to them to that their daddy wouldn’t be coming home.
Euan, Deacon and Erin, now 12, 10 and 15 years old, are members of Scotty’s Little Soldiers - the charity for bereaved Forces children and young people.
In this first-person account, Emma, opens up about her partner’s death, telling her children, and how the support from Scotty’s Little Soldiers has helped them.
Keri and I met in school. He was 14 years-old and was dating one of my school friends at the time. Our paths didn’t cross again until late summer 2007. I was 22 years-old, I’d had Erin and decided I wanted to go back to school to complete my A-Levels. I enrolled at the college where Keri was working in the I.T. department and we instantly hit it off.
Keri joined the Territorial Army a while before we met. Prior to joining he had been a cadet and it was a natural progression for him. He was very proud of the fact that he was involved in the military. He was very dedicated whilst also holding down a full-time civilian job. Once a week he would go to the Army Reserve Centre in Cambridge, which was an hour drive there and back. He loved it.
Shortly after Keri and I got together in early 2008 we had Euan and then 18 months later we had Deacon. He was such a lovely dad, but the boys were so young when he died that they never really got to see how caring he was. He was a fantastic stepdad to Erin. He would always comfort her when she wasn’t well and tell her stories to encourage her to take her medicine.
Keri suffered with depression for many years, and often became overwhelmed with family life. He’d often need his own space so would stay in his flat, which was close by.
The day he died he was staying at his flat. That day, we’d talked for about half an hour and had a very pleasant chat. He told me how happy he was about how the boys were being raised and how much he loved me.
That evening after I’d put the children to bed, my friend came for dinner. It was 11.45pm and I was just about to go up to bed when there was a loud knock on the door. I knew it wasn’t the knock of someone I knew. I looked out of the window, and I could see the reflection of the police officer’s uniform in the window of the house opposite. I answered the door and one of the officers asked me if I was the mother of Keri’s sons. When I confirmed I was, he said, ‘I’m very sorry but he’s taken his own life.’ In that moment, our lives changed forever.
I was so worried about telling the children, Euan was only two, Deacon was 11 months and Erin, who loved Keri as a dad, was six. They were all so young and I remember thinking how am I going to tell them? Euan was very clever for his age and ahead in terms of his development. Children don’t come with a rule book, especially when it comes to explaining that a parent has died at such a young age.
I told the children at different times about what had happened. Deacon was far too young to understand, but I spoke to Erin and Euan separately. I told Erin first. She was six at the time and I knew would understand. She handled it really well.
With Euan, it was a few days later while we were having tea that he asked “why are you wearing daddy’s necklace?” I was wearing Keri’s Army dog tags around my neck, he used to wear them all the time. I leant over Euan, and they brushed the side of his head. I’m not a believer in saying that someone has gone to sleep as I think it can give false hope. I had to ensure Euan accepted that his dad had gone and that it wasn’t possible for him to come back. I explained that dad’s heart stopped beating and that he could no longer walk, talk, or breathe like we do.
I waited until they were old enough to be able to cope with the impact of learning both that Keri took his own life, how he did this, and perhaps most importantly, what it means to be depressed. It was important to me that I told them the truth but, in an age, appropriate way.
I described it as a disease, but a disease you can't catch from someone. Like having a tiny little angry pilot sat at the controls of your brain, making you do, say and think things you never normally would do if he wasn't there. I felt it was important for them to know that he decided to leave us because of his depression.
It was on the third anniversary of Keri’s death in 2014 that I signed Euan, Deacon and Erin up to Scotty’s Little Soldiers. I learnt about the charity after enrolling Deacon in specialist swimming lessons and his teacher, who was a volunteer, advised that I should contact the charity. I thought that because Keri hadn’t been killed in action, that the children didn’t meet the criteria to become members. But they explained that Scotty’s supports children who have experienced the death of a parent who served in the Armed Forces, whether they were killed in action, in an accident, died from illness or suicide, and therefore welcomed the children.
The charity has been so incredible. Nikki Scott, the charity founder, is amazing and I can’t believe it has all come from one woman who has gone through something similar to us, and has set-up this amazing charity. The charity has provided us with so much support, especially recently, in supporting us with Euan’s high school application which we recently had to appeal as it wasn’t accepted. Scotty’s were there to represent me and spoke on my behalf, and Euan’s application would never have been accepted if it wasn’t for Scotty’s. He loves the school and has just been chosen for a university programme for high achievers.
The Scotty’s grants have also been incredibly useful. Euan has used them for guitar lessons and Deacon has been able to use them for swimming lessons. Erin turns 17 next year and will also benefit from the driving lessons grant.
We’ve also been on a number of the Scotty’s breaks, including a night at Legoland, Alton Towers and Center Parcs which the whole family has enjoyed. And the Christmas parties are just the best experience for the children and a great opportunity for Scotty families to come together. The children know that there are others there who have gone through a similar experience.
Without Scotty’s I think we’d feel very isolated. People, although they sympathise and mean well, don’t know what it’s like to experience their children dealing with grief. I know that if the children ever need help there is always support there. As a single parent, I would never be able to afford to go on holiday on my wage alone. Scotty’s has opened that door for us and allowed us to make lovely, happy memories. The charity doesn’t replace Keri, but the things they do keep us going.
Scotty’s Little Soldiers was set up by war widow Nikki Scott in 2010, a year after her husband, Corporal Lee Scott, was killed in Afghanistan, leaving behind their two young children. Nikki wanted to help other children who had experienced the death of a parent who served in the British Armed Forces.
The charity is currently providing assistance to hundreds of bereaved Forces children and young people around the UK and services offered include guidance to parents and carers, access to professional child bereavement support, personal education and learning assistance (including grants) and fun activities such as holiday respite breaks and group events. These are all designed to remind the children and young people supported by Scotty’s that they are not alone.