‘Memory, is the diary that we all carry about with us’…

All very well Mr Wilde, but memories fade, get twisted or forgotten. How I took for granted chatting with Mama about my childhood and Papa only to realise that when she too died, I was suddenly left as the sole curator of this vast archive of facts, dates, names and events. How many times we children roll our eyes when a parent starts recounting an anecdote we have heard a thousand times or tells us a story of people we have never heard of and we take no notice. I started a diary the day my mother died, the minute it happened in fact. Odd I know but I was horrified to think for one minute that I might start forgetting things or feelings as I did when my father had died four years earlier. The horrors of death obviously take precedence in the mind when you lose someone in unfortunate ...

Lies, Damned Lies and Statistics

Time heals. Grief subsides. It hurts less. Bla Bla Bla.... There are days when the grief of losing one's parents feels so all consuming and raw that it is hard to ever imagine a time when it would not feel like that. Time actually makes it worse. Grief merely takes on a different form. And it never truly stops hurting. All that actually happens is people around you forget, or the time passing seems to lessen the rawness of the ordeal in their eyes. You feel weak for bringing the topic up. When meeting new people it seems less and less important or relevant to even mention the fact. At an interview recently I felt almost ridiculous for mentioning the fact one of my parents died last year. I mean to say, who cares? People die. Older people die first. Its just normal right. Sad but no big deal. Get over it. Well actually it is huge and ...