When I wake up, my heart doesn’t split into a thousand pieces. My head doesn’t pound with questions asking me why us, or how are we here. When I reach for a mug for my coffee, my hands don’t shake when I see Mum’s mug.
Grief. Grief is one thing which I constantly mull over, and tussel with. She grabs me by the legs some times and leaves me winded in the…… Read more “The Heart of Everything”
The vet nurse called Daisy a naughty torty, and I quite liked that.
For 2019, I had a different type of bonfire night. It was lovely, wholesome and warm.
Yes, and I am finally living it.