Ronan O'Gara: This could be Cork, Charleville or Carlow in the morning. That’s what’s in my head. Nowhere is safe now.

In the Air New Zealand lounge at Christchurch, the Crusaders gathered for our short flight to Dunedin. My phone beeped with a text. We rarely pause to reflect how those text message notifications reshape and redirect our thinking on a minute-by-minute basis, but this one from the principal of Fendalton Open School rooted me where I stood.

My parents are over with us at the moment and they came along as Jessica dropped me to Christchurch Airport before they proceeding onto collecting Max at Kindergarten and our four elder children at Fendalton. The time between saying goodbye to Jess and the school text arriving wasn’t long, but it demanding my fumbling, frantic fingers dialled her number immediately.