Where there's no need to send flowers, what does today become?
On this, the first Mother's Day without my mum, I'm still learning what can fill the space she left behind
We’re told to tell our stories. But sometimes our stories are so entangled with someone else’s, we can’t tell our own, within telling theirs.
This Mother’s Day, I’m waking to the echoes of someone else’s story. As I sit here with my morning coffee, there’s a presence keenly felt because of its absence. And the quiet that should be here as the house sleep…
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