grief by car

The son and the father knew each other in that shadowy way that parents and children do until the son was an adult. It must have been a great surprise to both of them to see how alike they were. The son and the father had good ideas of themselves –there is nothing wrong with…

I’m going to let her shine…

On Friday it was four years since the day I lost my little sister. I’ll admit I have trouble with a sentence like that one. Since my little sister’s passing? Passing into what, where? Since my little sister’s death? It’s too true and too harsh. I go with since I lost my little sister, like…

nobody does coffee like she did

In less than a week it will be three years since my little sister died. How something can feel like an eternity and be remembered as if it was yesterday is beyond me. Still, I’m all about the good times now. I almost never cry, not because it’s not sad, it’s bloody sad for a…

the beautiful mess of her

On Friday a piece from daysofhilda was published in the big paper, on-line, not the hard copy. The piece was read by someone who invited me onto her radio programme to talk grief for a couple of minutes. Talking grief is something I can do. This was never meant to be a grief blog, but…