I saw my first snowdrops of the year last week, but the joy I felt at their appearance was marred by the news that sadly, yet another Shropshire family won’t be around to see them or feel the new hope they inspire.

The devastating and sudden demise of the tragic McFall family from Oswestry shows us just how isolated individuals can feel, even when surrounded by people who love them.

Nobody knows just what this family’s particular problems were or what it was that made Hugh McFall take matters into his own hands with such catastrophic consequences. And that is where the heart of this tragedy lies.

As our little island becomes ever more stuffed with humanity, our cities bulging at the seams and our villages overlapping to become towns, the people in them are becoming ever more isolated and self-contained.

Where once we had strong communities bound by family ties and friendship, we now have residential areas where it is possible for a person to die in their own home and not be found for many weeks.

Of course the McFall family were not isolated, had many friends and local ties and yet, somehow, even within this bubble of normality, Hugh McFall obviously felt his problems were insurmountable.

If only he had seen those first snowdrops perhaps he would have felt the hope they represent and seen the myriad possibilities still left in life, for him and his family.

And that is why the snowdrops were spoiled for me this year. Because part of being human is to go through difficult times, when carrying on seems like the hardest thing of all and times when, admitting those feelings to someone else seems impossible.

But the wonderful thing about life, like nature, is that whatever you’re going through, it will carry on regardless. The sun will rise and the flowers will open to remind you that even when you feel you’ve reached the end of the road, you haven’t really . . .

So I don’t know about you, but I’m going to make an extra effort this week to get in touch with those I love to let them know that whatever they’re going through, like the snowdrops, I’ll be there for them regardless.