the price of love

When your day is long
And the night
The night is yours alone
When you’re sure you’ve had enough of this life
Well hang on

Don’t let yourself go
Cause everybody cries
And everybody hurts
Sometimes
- The Corrs 1999

This song has been in my mind for quite a while, ever since I rediscovered it last winter.

I first heard it in 1992, when Jenny bought REM’s Automatic for the People. That’s a marvellous album, rather better known for the somewhat prophetic Losing My Religion. Now there’s a topic for another day.

Everybody Hurts. It’s a great title, for a wonderfully inspirational ballad which I’d long admired but long since forgotten.

This cover version by The Corrs has its own uplifting history.

The band first performed the song in a benefit event for the victims of the Omagh bombing in Northern Ireland which killed 29 people and injured 220.

That tragedy took place on 15th August 1998, just four months after the Good Friday Agreement had been signed in Belfast. The attack was carried out by the Real IRA, a republican splinter group determined to continue the violence which over 30 years of the troubles had destroyed so many lives in places far and wide.

In my own home town, five people were killed and sixtyfive injured as a result of the Guildford pub bombings on 5 October 1974, which formed part of the campaign extending terrorism to the British mainland.

That attack took place on Jenny’s tenth birthday, exactly thirty years to the day from the opening of this book.

Omagh was Northern Ireland’s single worst terrorist atrocity. A cruel and cynical strike against the very outbreak of peace, it could easily have been the lowest point of all, plunging Northern Ireland into further years of bloodshed.

But events took a different and much more positive turn. The attack was roundly condemned by the British and Irish governments and by Loyalist and official Republican organisations alike.

Sinn Féin leader Martin McGuinness called it ‘an appalling act’ and Gerry Adams professed to ‘condemn it without any equivocation whatsoever.’

Like many low points, Omagh proved a decisive watershed, marking the moment when the public will to end the loss of life was finally affirmed, redoubling the commitment of all sides to the Northern Ireland peace process.

The road to peace since then has not always been smooth, but it has been steady, and this song has played its part.

There’s much more to say about this song. The lyrics offer reassurance and a reminder that every life has its seasons, with fine days and rainy ones as well.

Along the way, some people will face a hundred-year storm capable of ripping out everything which went before. But from the very depths of despair, unexpected opportunities and a new future can grow.

Andrea Corr’s voice here is quite sublime. This version enchanted me on a frosty run last winter and enchants me still. For everyone who has ever been bereaved or faces loss, I’ll leave you with the most important message of this song.

You’re not alone.

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