Mum would love these rainbows.
I think part of my university experience has been trying to find that for myself. To have a moment of deep pride in my accomplishments.
My advice would be to rest often and to try to enjoy myself a bit more.
For those of us who have lost vibrant, courageous women, I hope this day is a little reminder that we can still celebrate them. They are all around us, and they are in you 🤍
In my sleep, I descend the stairs and you rush past me, telling me to hurry up, people are downstairs and they are waiting for us. I’m confused, my jaw opening and closing like the door you just came through; swinging on its hinge at a loss at your presence.
I don’t wonder why they behaved this way, but I ask myself why I responded. I put this individual’s behaviour down to them having a bad day and I forgive them. Yet I can’t forget the fact that they saw me at my most vulnerable, and strangers must have seen me as weak.
We hope that you have enjoyed reading The Grief Reality in April. It is a joy to have somewhere to talk so openly about grief, mental health and general ramblings.
‘Gently, My Mother’ is a small poem I wrote on a sunny Friday which made me miss my own quite terribly.
When life slips down the hill, Katie and I often turn to each other and ask each other the same question: What is the point? With our feet slipping, trying to stop everything from falling, our arms aching and our bodies covered in mud, we scream WHAT IS THE POINT IN TRYING SO HARD?
My name is Evee. Not Evie or Eve, and in fact I dislike both of those names quite strongly.