A Letter to the Family of Gus: From One Grandmother’s Heart

To Gus’s Mum, Dad, and Grandparents,

I write this as a grandmother, my hands shaking, my heart aching for you in ways words will never truly capture. I know what it is to love a child so fiercely that their laughter is the music of your soul and their absence is a silence that screams.

To the Grandparents

You opened your home—the safe haven, the place of adventure and gentle spoiling—for your precious grandson. The place where little feet patter down hallways, where stories are told, and where the world is meant to be small and safe. Now, every corner of your home echoes with the memory of Gus: his giggle in the sand, his curls shining in the sun, the last time you saw him—so ordinary, so unremarkable, so heartbreakingly final.

I can’t imagine the weight you carry. The questions that haunt you: If only I’d watched a moment longer. If only I’d held his hand. If only, if only, if only. The guilt that isn’t yours to bear, but which clings anyway, heavy and relentless. The world will never understand the depths of your love nor the agony of your loss. You did everything right. You loved him, you watched him, you cherished him. Sometimes, the world is simply too cruel.

You are not alone. Every grandparent who reads your story aches with you, cries with you, and wishes with all their heart that they could turn back time and bring your Gus home.

To Gus’s Mum and Dad

No parent should ever have to live this nightmare. You trusted, as we all do, that your child would be safe in the arms of those who love him most. The pain you feel is beyond words—a hollowing, a terror, a grief that blots out the sun. Every hour that passes is another eternity. Every footstep, every knock at the door, you hope for a miracle and dread what news it might bring.

You may feel anger, confusion, guilt, or nothing at all—just numbness. All of it is normal. None of it is your fault. You are living every parent’s deepest fear, and you are surviving minute by minute. That is enough.

Let yourself be held by those around you. Let them hope for you when you cannot. Let them remember for you the joy that Gus brought, the light he is and always will be. Your love for him is unbreakable, and it reaches across the distance, wherever he may be.

To All Who Love Gus

We are changed by this. Every family, every parent, every grandparent who has ever lost sight of a child for even a second now feels your terror multiplied a thousandfold. We hold our children tighter. We look for Gus’s smile in every crowd, whisper his name in our prayers, and rage at the unfairness of it all.

May you find moments of comfort in the love that surrounds you. May you know that Gus is loved by a whole country, that your pain is shared, and that hope endures, even as hearts break.

With all the sorrow and love a grandmother’s heart can hold,

Someone who grieves with you,

Niki Gent

About Niki Gent

Niki Gent is a trauma-informed practitioner, consultant, and educator with decades of experience supporting families through their darkest hours. With qualifications in criminal justice, social work, counselling, and business, Niki has devoted her life to helping others find hope and healing after unimaginable loss.

Niki’s work is grounded in both professional expertise and personal empathy. She has walked alongside families facing the unthinkable—providing guidance, comfort, and practical support when the world no longer makes sense. Her approach is gentle, honest, and always centered on the dignity and emotions of those she serves.

As the founder of Family & Child Consultants, Niki leads a team dedicated to supporting children, parents, and grandparents through trauma, grief, and crisis. She is widely respected for her ability to hold space for sorrow, to honor the love that endures beyond loss, and to help families navigate the long journey toward healing.

Niki believes that no family should ever feel alone in their pain. Her work, her writing, and her advocacy are a testament to the power of compassion, community, and hope—no matter how dark the day.