I felt profoundly sad that day, and I realised that dementia was claiming my father piece by tiny piece, memory by memory, and with each one gone, a little more of him had died. I had begun to mourn him then, to prepare for the day I knew would come; a day I would be ready for.
Listen above, or read below. The Snow Globe – A Christmas Story The slender man in the donkey jacket and flat cap stamped his feet, the thick soles of his boots grinding and scratching at the frozen pavement beneath. The fingerless gloves on his calloused hands made a dull popping sound as he clapped them […]
Listen to the final part of this story above, or read it below! Missed part 1? click here! Missed part 2? click here! In the eighteen years that I have been renting out property I have encountered many different characters from dozens of countries around the world. I have spent sleepless nights worrying whether I would […]
I felt like the reaper was stalking me too, as if the angel of death was painting invisible crosses on the doors of those who had been chosen and wondering if I, also, was on that list.
Just a few days after his eighteenth birthday, as Ellen’s next of kin, he was being asked to make the decision to cut away a part of his mother’s brain in order to make her better.
Dear friends, family and discerning readers. Tonight my son Marcus is sleeping rough on the streets of Bournemouth in aid of the homeless. Please keep him in your thoughts tonight and if you are a religious person, please say a little prayer for him. If you are one of those generous people who have donated […]
for part I click here, for part II click here Part III In the eighteen years that I have been renting out property I have encountered many different characters from dozens of countries around the world. I have spent sleepless nights worrying whether I would be able to pay the mortgage when dishonest tenants refused to […]
The day I found that big ball of Marijuana under my loose floorboard I knew that the time had come to grasp the nettle and take some kind of definitive action.
It was the kind of cold, wet, nasty November evening when you think that Summer will probably never come again.
Brian Orman 04/03/1934 – 11/05/2014 Today at 3pm, compelled by love, respect, compassion and duty, a family came together. Like so many seeds scattered on the wind we have each blown our separate ways, to land where we will and set down our own fragile roots. Years pass, relationships blossom and develop and others, once […]