This powerful talk from Brené Brown led me through some deep introspection which I feel a desire to mull over and come back to. For now, thought, it feels important to share it with those I love, those I am grateful for, and even those I don’t know (or don’t yet know) – because I … More Vulnerability
Simplifying the translation of our emotions assists us in cutting through the cluttered confusion of our hearts, and forming a coherent picture to place ourselves in. Nuances are inevitably lost in any translation, however, and on some occasions it seems worth turning away temporarily from the lure of simplicity and letting the uncertain dusk of fragmentation … More Analysing a Moment
There are times when the dam wall breaks: all the little things add up to one unbearable ache in the centre of my chest, and the tears that have seemed a distant memory become a flood that washes away all points of stability.
I sang Greg Brown’s ‘Spring Wind’ as a lullaby to my youngest son today, and it is the first time in many months I have sung it. It was a song we played at my mother’s cremation, and it brings back powerful memories of the weeks after her death – I know I have mentioned … More Simple Grief
The past twelve days are like a mist to me. I am emerging, but swirls clutch my ankle still, and I can neither penetrate the fog behind nor the darkness ahead. Five days and four nights in a sterile, cold hospital surrounded by very old women, rushing doctors and bullying nurses. In between a CT … More Insomniac Ramblings
Yet another milestone today, on Halloween when the kids are excited about pumpkins and trick-or-treating, and my reflections on death are far more mournful. Five months, and a whole summer has passed since my mother’s death. Five months that seem the blink of an eye, time still frozen, yet containing enough sorrow and loss for … More Five Months
Last night my dreams were full of my mother again, but they were a new sort of dream, and have thankfully returned to being gentle and comforting – perhaps my reward to returning to the blogosphere! They were too long and complicated to try and capture in full, but there were a few key scenes … More Ghosts and Dreams
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
I stumbled across this Skype conversation with my mother from quite a number of years ago, which I had emailed to myself to keep safe, and subsequently forgotten I still had (though I remembered the conversation itself well). I grasp at all these memories, wanting to remember her voice, her smell, and her writing, and … More Captured Conversations