It was just over two years ago that I awoke in the middle of the night, and penned somewhat of a monologue, titled “Can you see me now?” [Read that post here] It was a piece inspired by the experience of many of our mamma’s, but truthfully a largely Cathartic
Life changes. In a blink of an eye. If I’ve learnt anything over the course of the last two months, it’s that life, the trajectory on which we anticipate being, the future we think we have planned, is not set in stone. It’s made me think deeply about the fortune
I’m fascinated by our collective passion for the aftermath. The tragedy. The destruction. The gory story in all its glory. The tale of death. The headline of morbidity. It’s as though, universally, we sit around, waiting, anticipating the disaster, ready and able to swoop and fix it, to pick up
Each time I sit down to write I ask myself whether the content of what I share will harm or heal the individuals at the heart of the story. And whilst this generally takes the form of assessing whether the information I’m sharing takes away from the dignity of the
If you’ve been around for any length of time, you’ll know we have a steadfast tradition each evening as we gather at the dinner table. With great excitement, the quickest to the draw shouts, ‘Can I start favourite part?!?’. And with that we start the great ‘favourite’ game where each
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