When Sophie returns to the car after going to her physiotherapy appointment, she suggests we have lunch together, instead of driving straight home. A few minutes later, we’re sanitising our hands at
Sitting on the sofa under my soft fleecy blanket, safe in my bubble, I read the latest news and discover that a second wave of covid-19 is about to hit our state.
Quinn and I are meandering down the main fire trail when the bush rustles. I freeze and tighten the dog’s leash. My eyes follow a fast-moving wave of sound that explodes into
Each week, since the pandemic closed our churches, we’ve been able to attend our parish’s Sunday Mass online. On our devices and TVs, we can see our priest standing in front of
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
My daughter Imogen and I are standing in front of the birthday candle display in the supermarket. “Which ones would you like, Mum?” I look at the boxes that each contain 12 candles,
When Ellie said to me, “I suppose it’s too late to do anything about it,” I replied, “I don’t want to do anything about my baby.” No, I didn’t want to kill
My fingers hop over my keyboard, tapping out ‘words beginning with x’. A few seconds later, I’m scrolling through a long list. “Did you know there are lots of words starting with
My husband Andy and I are sitting on our old wooden chairs on opposite sides of the wobbly table in our front garden. Our eyes are following the bees which are buzzing
The phone rings and when I answer it, love rushes down the line. It hits my ear and then travels to my heart. ”Hey, Mum!” says my son Callum. “How are you?”
After dinner, I settle on the sofa, and Quinn clambers up beside me, putting her big heavy paws on my lap. My girls take their seats. So does my husband Andy. Then
This morning, as I was driving into town, I noticed that the trees that border the main road are shrugging off their autumn leaves, exposing their winter bones. Time is marching on.
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