You aren't your grief. You aren't what happens to you in this life, you are how you deal it. You won't always feel so small.
But this is my world. Those were the cards I had been dealt. I have been living without my Mum for 14 months now. I have been doing okay.
The sun is still in the sky and shining above you. Thank you for coming on this journey with me.
I'm a hoarder of moments, desperate to find gold in paper, Something that I had missed before, like an echoing smile. I walk in my loving, sweet Danse Macabre, My fruitless attempt to make "treasure" worthwhile.
I would like a conversation, where we talk about life and living and what it all means. Maybe after, my brain will turn into liquid and drip into dreams.
I remember a page where I just scribbled “WHY”. One word which took up the whole page. I scratched it in so much the letters were thick and black but each time I drove my pen into the paper I felt a release.