From the category archives:

Writing

Joe

May 8, 2010

As I hold my poorly son’s hand, entwined through cot bars, I’ve been thinking of you. Almost ten, as we unpacked trunks, we found matching pyjamas, a shared birthday, destined to be friends. Then a few weeks later, when noisy footsteps came to get you and roused us from sleep, still their day but the [...]

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The long game

April 29, 2010

I am a softie. I do sentimental in a big way. I cry a lot, often with happiness. I gravitate to kind people, people with big hearts, people who love dogs, people who care. My favourite songs are all uplifting, soaring (my all time favourite – Elbow’s One Day Like This: throw those curtains wide! [...]

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Where does my time go?

March 4, 2010

I held you, mottled pink and silicon-fat arms. I gazed at you, with amazement and fright. I fed you, in the dark hours when the world had stopped except for us. I rocked you, when nothing else helped. I changed you, picked up after you, I helped you to walk. I weaned you, I tickled [...]

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’til my heart hurts

October 12, 2009

I love my children ’til my heart hurts. There is no other way to say it. I watch my first born, my beautiful sweet seven year old, struggle with so much at the moment and I feel so unable to help him. Even if I knew what was wrong, I don’t know if I can [...]

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Morning rush hour

October 17, 2007

I pause at the garage door, boots on, coat and hat pulled tight, and look up at the ominous sky. It’s still dark and more than a little bit foreboding even though I know our walk like the back of my hand and even though I know sunrise will be here within a few minutes. [...]

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Hot summer days

July 25, 2006

The flies land randomly, lazily, on the dishes by the sink. The blinds shudder at the threat of a slight breeze. Outside, the stains on the drying laundry disappear under the fierce stare of the sun. The baby feeds sleepily. The two older children sleep sweatily in their beds, worn out by the heat and [...]

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I. Waiting

February 23, 2005

I am waiting in the foyer of a large expensively-elegant hotel, supposedly at a business meeting, but instead waiting for him to arrive back in London after the band’s tour finally ended. He has been away only a short while, time I had to spend in London working. Time I hadn’t spent with him, hadn’t [...]

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