It’s Christmas Eve. Which means I shall be watching The Muppet Christmas Carol. Reasons, two. One: It’s the best Christmas film ever. Two: Because it’s the best Christmas film ever, Dan and I watched it most Decembers, usually on Christmas Eve. Who can fail to be moved by Gonzo as Charles Dickens, ably assisted byContinue reading “Muppets always make it better”
Tag Archives: grief
Christmas is Coming
The only reason that Christmas, and for that matter, birthdays, are so loaded with emotion and so difficult to manage is because they don’t happen every day. If we lived with a year of Christmas days, the power would soon dissipate, and it’d become so ordinary that we wouldn’t cry every time we saw THATContinue reading “Christmas is Coming”
Maggie and Me
I have been back from Llanbedrog for over a month now. I miss the beach mostly. The static crackle of the surf pushing and pulling the shale on the shoreline. The suck and hiss, back and forth. The wind rushing along the coast and the crash and return of the waves fills my senses. IContinue reading “Maggie and Me”
Advent of Grief
Detached. Like a retina, or a singular house. That’s how I feel. Grief Awareness Week has just been and a search of the hashtag on Twitter throws up post after post about how to manage grief. I can’t read any of them. None of it makes sense. Grief isn’t managed, it’s experienced. Maybe that’s justContinue reading “Advent of Grief”
Everyone’s turning 18
Jay turns 18 next week. Little Jay, who used to call me ‘Bebbie’. Dan’s first best friend. The two of them played, fell out, made up and played some more, on repeat throughout Dan’s life. In high school they’d disagree, argue loudly with each other. ‘Now come on, you two…’ a kind friend tried toContinue reading “Everyone’s turning 18”
Panic on the streets of Glossop
‘Just breathe, just breathe,’ I mutter, jagged huh-huh-huhs dragging back and forth. My footsteps clap in my ears, the soles of my shoes slapping the pavement of my hometown, walking fast along familiar streets. I have simply come into the town centre to drop off some bits at a charity shop, but it’s become aContinue reading “Panic on the streets of Glossop”
The End of Therapy – Part Two
Of course not everything was perfectly resolved. As calm and relaxed as I felt at the end of my final counselling session, there was one big hurdle we’d not really had the opportunity to work through. When I’d started counselling it was because I needed to talk about Dan and, as I found each week,Continue reading “The End of Therapy – Part Two”
The End of Therapy – Part One
The counselling is over. ‘I think I’m ok now,’ I informed my therapist. ‘That’s good,’ she nodded, encouragingly. ‘What’s changed?’ That was a hard one. And I had no simple answer. Each week, our sessions had removed the emotional and mental lint I’d picked up over the previous seven days. I would log on forContinue reading “The End of Therapy – Part One”
Middowed: The Basics
Middow is a coined term for a mother whose child has died. I came up with it because I couldn’t find another word that fitted. There is a Sanskrit term, vilomah, that means against the natural order of things. That definitely describes the general state of being but doesn’t quite signify a person. Middow isContinue reading “Middowed: The Basics”
Midowed 