May

“Give sorrow words; the grief that does not speak knits up the o-er wrought heart and bids it break.”

Macbeth by William Shakespeare

Dad and daughter
L-R: My Dutch granny, Dad, little me, Mamma circa 1974.

On 1 May 2018 it was cold and raining in London, but in Morgan Bay the sun shone as my Mamma and Little Sis walked the 4km length of white beach in remembrance of my dear Dad. It’s been one whole year without him and we have all felt the loss in different ways.

For my part, I’ve learnt that some of my grief is wrapped up in guilt. Continue reading May