Death is ugly. Death is final. Death is cruel. Death is precious. Death is beautiful. Death has a silver lining. There is a stillness that settles inside you when the worst thing happens, when death arrives to your world. No one mentions it, at least I have never heard it mentioned, this place of internal … Continue reading The Thaw
“As the hinge of memory rusted in willed self-preserving neglect, she decided it was easier to remember only what she had negotiated with herself to remember.” Kenneth Bush Memories can be painful. But I instinctively knew that, for me, it was better to feel the pain than to lose the memories, than to forget. I write … Continue reading Master of my Fate
What would it be like to be unrelentingly positive for one day? For the inside thoughts and outside spoken words all to be ‘up’. To watch the sneaky negativity or melancholy and flip it before it takes hold. It started out as an easy exercise to maintain. The daybreak was beautiful: a cloudless day illuminated … Continue reading Weather Patterns
When life is going well, we do it a disservice by not offering it a small bow of gratitude, not acknowledging the simple happiness of the everyday. Instead, we sail on, eyes forward, unappreciative of the smile of fortune that is ‘nothing much happening’. We are conditioned to believe that good fortune and happiness in … Continue reading Better
I’m talking disappointment that’s not the end of the world, one that’s somewhere between a blow and an inconvenience, yet, when it hits, it feels like the end of the world to you. In it goes to your body to be registered in your bones and muscles, nothing as violent as the proverbial punch in … Continue reading One About Disappointment
“I think people are uncomfortable, so they say nothing,” she told me, “like people no longer saying his name.” Had that been the case with my husband, Ken, and with my dad, Barry, had my friends and family not been able to remember either anniversary landing on these days, speak either’s name, say something they … Continue reading We Should Speak of the Dead
I’m still in Portrush. Gales and more gales blow through, one trailing the other, bowling balls careening down a polished rink, on they roll, another, another, another. The wind abates for a day or two, then I’ll be lying in my upstairs bedroom at night and hear it gather speed, listen to it rise, rip, … Continue reading Letting Go
“In the sunset of dissolution, everything is illuminated by the aura of nostalgia, even the guillotine.” Isn’t that a lovely line? It’s from The Unbearable Lightness of Being by Milan Kundera. It makes me think about reframing awful things in a different way. Maybe this (insert whatever your trouble is) isn’t so bad after all. And if to reframe … Continue reading The Sunset of Dissolution
Life is confusing, demanding, complicated – or so I think, most of the time. Then I have the occasional thought otherwise, smoky thoughts that I can never quite pin down. I’ve tried to explain it here in fourteen lines. Simple, by Eimear Bush We make a meal of this life thing With four pots on … Continue reading Simple
C. tells me she is taking her laptop in to be serviced “as its sooooo SLOW”. Reconditioned, she calls it, then, as a quick aside, she adds, “maybe they ought to take me in too, to be reconditioned.” Now there’s a thought. When I was growing up, everything was ‘reconditioned’ with a lick-and-a-spit and a … Continue reading Recondition Me
My Edinburgh Press 