The warmth of the son

Navigating the emotional terrain of human interaction is frankly exhausting. It is fraught with danger, it can be unforgiving and aridly relentless. Remaining professional in the face of hostility and covert bullying, is beyond challenging. To recover, I lock every door between the exterior world and my soul, and absorb the kindness of love and peace …

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Time to eat cake

My anniversary is due and while I count myself alongside the fortunate ones that have this anniversary to mark, I question whether this milestone is valid or marks anything other than time. It measures the collective time after the shattering and the start of the new normal, but mostly it acknowledges my commitment to keeping …

The Shattering

I love the way that you remember me, the me, before the shattering. That day wrapped in costume ordinary, brought with it, great sadness, which tiptoed in behind it. I floated once, buoyant and resilient. A warrior by nature, fought, lip bitten hard, past childhood fear and isolation. Neighbours in our twenties, we were beautiful, firm …

A Tisket, A Tasket…. A Wicker Casket

My father rather loved the humble 'basket'. During his life, the wicker basket played numerous invaluable roles in history.  Across England, factories used baskets for the packing and delivery of a range of goods.  Many a wicker basket could be found buckled by leather straps to the handle bars of a pushbike. During WWII thousands …

Staying top of mind

During the past few days, I have been working through the list of numbers that Dad had conveniently pasted to a piece of recycled picture mounting board.   All except one call, have solicited receptive responses. On that occasion, I definitely experienced a phone call with someone who is experiencing decline in their mental acuity.  It …