Today is one of many important markers to come. Three months to the day Since her life slipped away. Where have they gone? Where have they gone? The world carries on as always – deadlines, exhaustions, overcrowded trains. Yet I can’t find myself in it. I feel brittle and frail My hands shaky and pale … More Three Months without My Mother
Countless others Have likened the rain to tears, or tears to rain. The comparison should have lost its potency through reiteration Yet, sitting watching drops trickle steadily down the window, I can think of nothing but how they would feel on my cheek – Cold rather than hot and salty, Expressing my sorrow when my … More unshed
My mother’s favourite author was Ursula K. Le Guin. After many years of dreaming of it, she finally wrote a letter to ‘her Ursula’, expressing how important her writing had been to her, and she received a brief – but delightful and heartfelt – reply. I stumbled across it when I was back in South Africa for … More Facing the Shadows
My mom’s friend Donna emailed the article below to a few friends last weekend. I can’t help wishing that I had been passed an article like this a few years ago, so I could have felt slightly less trepidatious when wondering what to say or do when others had lost loved ones, and it feels … More How To Help Friends in Mourning
Arms outstretched in delight Smile stretching wide Laughter bubbling – Drenched in joy.
I wrote this poem in September 1996, when I was 14. I stumbled across it tonight, and it suddenly seemed an excellent expression of some of my emotions. *** I wonder where in the deep dark depths That some may call my mind That quiet place In a turbulent race To be, achieve, survive… The … More When all other expression fails, turn to poetry!
I read a little of Rebecca Abrams’ ‘When Parents Die’ this evening, which my friend Garry, whose father died while he was 12, lent me. It arrived with a heart warming note inside: ‘I hope that when you find time to read this book, you find solace. I know I did, even after many years! … More Giving Sorrow Words
I have been thinking and talking a lot recently about identity and creativity. In part of an email to a friend, Onke, last week, I wrote “I wonder if we all struggle to some degree to acknowledge or recognise our ‘true self’? It is such a flexible and constantly changing thing, responding to our environment … More Multiplicity
I had what felt like an enormously important dream last night. I had been reading a book called ‘Motherless Daughters’ before going to sleep, and I was clearly trying to resolve some of the issues it raised for me, but I am grateful for the gentle way my mind went about this process.
Her hands, strong and articulate, Drawing air-pictures Whilst describing new perspectives. Digging earth to bring its bounty forth, Or climbing rock – She touched the world, and so it touched her back. Her hands that bathed my newborn flesh; They wiped my tears, And across distance wrote to soothe my fears. Those hands … More My Mother’s Hands