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.
firstname.lastname@example.org , just pop in the subject “As Told By [Your Name or Anonymous] or you can private message your posts to us on our social media.
Sometimes, making plans for the following week seems like a great idea – and sometimes it is – but other times, you just have to cancel because all you need to do is gather your strength at home.
Resilience and roller-skating go hand in hand. You slip up and fall on your butt, with your hands slapping the concrete besides you. You look up, praying no one saw, and a little voice says in the back of your head “This is the important bit, go on, get back up.”
In case you missed anything from May…
I thought I saw you yesterday. Standing in the queue.
But then again, it can’t have been you.
I see a sign slip past almost insignificantly until I read the words “Hope Valley”.
Grief sucks but to come out the other side intact, one must go through and accept the process with the courage of a warrior.
We cannot express enough that our blog means the world to us. When we started this page, we just needed an outlet to express our pain and loss. Two years on, we have 4,000 followers across all platforms, and we are completely blown over by it. We cannot thank you enough for all your support.
Writing on the blog is deeply personal. I imagine I sit you down, offer you tea, hold your hand and look you in the eyes. Whilst you may read this and throw it away, or never think of it again, I think of it every day. The power of you sitting with me, and giving me space to share my thoughts.