I go back to bed again, so tired, trying to sleep, hoping to dream of my son, or at least make the day pass faster. Firsts are never easy. First birthdays, his and mine, first Christmas, now first Mother’s Day. They tell you that, and you think you understand, but you don’t, until you live … Continue reading Mother’s Days
“Are those real Gucci sandals?” I was looking down at my son’s feet. We were in Hawaii, because the first Christmas not in our family home was too hard for my children. “Who’d be crazy enough to spend that kind of money on a pair of slides?” Carson replied. It was only years later, sorting … Continue reading If I Die Young
When I was 19 and at university, 3000 kilometres from where my family lived, I planned to not go home for Christmas. I was living on student loans and money was tight. My mother quietly listened to my logic, then sent me a plane ticket. Of course, I had a wonderful time. But I remember … Continue reading Christmas (not) at Home
For almost six months I didn’t travel. I didn’t leave the Island I live on, and much of the time I was within walking distance of my bed. Yet, I made some incredible journeys. I couldn’t go far, so I went deep. No work, no travel, no projects, no distractions— matters and issues long suppressed … Continue reading Travelling Inside
Brave Travels 