Grief can arrive without warning, leaving no time to prepare. In this heartfelt reflection, Julie shares the sudden death of her son Aaron — a compassionate healthcare worker, a proud brother and uncle, and her beloved boy. Her story speaks to the shock of loss, the loneliness that can follow, and the enduring love that remains.

Here’s Julie’s story, in her own words:

I had been talking to my son on the phone.

We spoke about things in general, as well as some family matters. It was a conversation like hundreds we’d had before.

This time, he told me that he loved me — and that he loved me so much it hurt at times.

I said to him, “I made you, and I did not make junk. Whatever dramas you’re going through, we’re in it together. I’ll always be here to help you, look out for you, and protect you.”

He said, “You are my warrior mum — always there for me.”

We both said we’d better go and that we loved each other.

He sounded bright and optimistic, and I was glad to hear him like that.
That was the last time I would ever speak to him.

The doctor rang me two hours later to tell me that my beautiful, kind, loving, thoughtful son had died.

At 16 minutes past 4pm, my world changed forever.

My husband came inside. I was screaming and crying. Then I heard the police knocking at the door.

I don’t remember much after that — only that I didn’t believe it, and I didn’t want to live anymore.

It felt like I was having an out-of-body experience. I could hear people talking to me, but none of it meant anything. I stayed in this semi-aware state for at least 30 hours. Then the first piece of reality set in.

I had to organise a funeral.
I had to decide: burial or cremation?
I had to collect his belongings from where he had been living.

But I couldn’t bear the thought of any of it.

With our family scattered across Victoria and New South Wales, I had no close relatives nearby to help.

Then I had a heart attack — brought on by the shock and stress of my son’s death.

Eventually, my family gathered around me, and some decisions were made.

My son died in Sydney. He was brought back to his hometown and laid to rest there.

Aaron was a deeply caring, intelligent, giving, and kind man.

He graduated from the University of South Australia as a paramedic, and later from the Australian Catholic University as an Intensive Care Nurse.

He worked with Aboriginal communities for two years in the Northern Territory and always wanted to return — but life had other plans.

He loved his family, and we all loved him: me, his brothers and sisters, his nieces and nephews.

My boy will forever be in my heart.  Until we can be together again.

Fly high with the angels, my son.

Forever 45 years young.