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On Top of the Coffin
My husband Andy’s wooden rosary beads are descending into the grave on top of the tiny white coffin. And I want to shout, “Stop!” Grey clouds move in, turning off the weak
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Saturday Snapshot
As I stand in our back garden, hanging the clothes on the washing line, I listen to the laughter drifting out of our family room window. My girls are rearranging furniture, spreading
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Pause, Picnic, Pray
I’m driving alone, on my way home from town, early in the day. As I pass through the rock cutting tunnel on the narrow road that winds into our village, I plan
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Not Always What They Seem
Nora pulls me along the side of our house, under the melaleuca trees, straight towards our garden gate. I stand on tiptoe and lift the latch, and the dog pushes ahead, barely
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One Day at a Time
I open my eyes, and I immediately realise that nothing has changed overnight. There is still a huge ache in my chest, and one all-consuming thought in my mind: Thomas. Although it
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The Extraordinary Ordinary Things of Life
I’m at Thomas’ wake. I have his memory box on my knee, and I take out a few photos and pass them to a friend. “He was a chubby baby!” she exclaims.
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Music, Funerals and Tears
From my diary: 19th March This morning at Mass, the first hymn was On Eagle’s Wings, which was the hymn we sang at Thomas’ funeral, as we processed to his burial site.
