WORKING when your family is in crisis is a tricky one.

It can be a blessing because it distracts you and helps you focus on the task in hand. On the flip side, it can seem unimportant and frustrating because you have bigger things to deal with.

If you read last week’s column, you will know my husband’s father is terminally ill.

It has been another tough week full of fear, worry and heartbreaking conversations.

Knowing I had to put this together at some point this week felt like a bit of a mountain to climb, in all honesty.

The hardest part for me is settling on a topic to explore, especially with something so serious happening around me.

It just does not seem appropriate to write about anything frivolous or insignificant.

So, for now, you have introspective me. I will try and keep the doom and gloom levels to a minimum, not only to keep your pecker up, but to help mine too. A kind of therapy I guess.

I do have something I want to celebrate among all of this sadness and that is friendship.

There is nothing like a crisis to bring those who really love you right to the forefront.

As a family, we have been simply inundated with texts, calls, cards and even an inflatable sheep. That is not as dodgy as it sounds.

My friend, Cat, is a shepherdess and, thanks to the wonders of the internet, managed to find a balloon-shaped ewe, who now sits on our lounge floor like a maintenance-free pet.

As ludicrous as that may appear, it does actually make us smile every time we trip over the damn thing.

It is grinning at me right now, I only wish I could attach a picture.

On a practical level, we have had offers of childcare, shopping, housework, waiting in for deliveries, cooking and plant-watering.

In fact, my next-door neighbour has literally just knocked on our front door to give me his mobile number in case we need anything at short notice.

We have chatted on our doorsteps for years, and now his family wants to support my family. It really does warm the cockles.

Humans can be so wonderful to each other when the chips are down.

As for my girlfriends, it goes without saying I have the best group in the world.

We all think that, don’t we?

I am lucky enough to still have my core group of friends I met at the age of four, and my very best one is on her way from London to check I am OK.

They all live in various parts of the country and, in one case, abroad, but we are still in each other’s lives as regularly as we can be.

We all know too much about each other to not be.

My other, more immediate support network is my mum friends, and what an outstanding group of women they are.

Some I met at a National Childbirth Trust group and some I have met through my son’s pre-school and now infant school.

These are the brilliant women who live a stone’s throw away.

They are the ones I see most days on the school run and can rely on for childcare and, well, pretty much anything really.

A few of them came to see me last night as I have been back home for a couple of days, sorting the house and packing more stuff so we can be based with my in-laws for the foreseeable.

They brought me beer and crisps and chocolate and helped me take apart a heavy desk that I have sold online, and carry it down the stairs.

We got to the DIY after a couple of drinks, so it is any wonder we all came away unscathed.

But they came and we hugged and we talked and we listened to the late, great Aretha Franklin and I felt huge comfort from them.

My husband, who was born and bred in Guildford, is equally blessed with an army of support.

His friends have been in his life for decades too and are quite a unique bunch.

Without exception, each one of them suffered significant loss before they even hit adulthood, whether that was a parent or a sibling.

Their bond is something quite exceptional as they have all carried each other through the darkest of times.

Don’t get me wrong, they have had plenty of amazing times too.

But, as they all experienced grief at such a young age, they just seem to know how to best take care of each other.

The point is, as horrific as the next few weeks will be, we will be held up.

Outside our families, our friends are the life rings that will keep our heads above water and ensure we survive and, for that, we are truly thankful.