We bought our house around 18 months ago. I’d been a tenant for many years and to say I was glad to see the back of landlords and property managers would be a vast understatement. Buying a house was a big dream realised; no more uncertainty, no more leases, no more dodgy repairs, no more fighting with agents at the end of lease to get my bond returned. In my own home, I could so manythings without anyone else’s permission.
Knock down walls, paint, hang pictures, change stuff around, install things, remove things- whatever the hell I want!
A few years ago, through blogging, I became mates with an awesome woman called Talya Goding. Talya was juggling multiple medical conditions, a situation she handled with a rare mixture of raw honesty, strength, vulnerability and grace. She shared her story of living with an ostomy and her cancer story through her blog, Feeling Ostomistic. She even used her experiences to help and support other young people going through similar struggles.
The sweet, kind, generous, hilarious friend that would make it her business to tell me about crazy vagina products or hit me up with blogger goss. And yesterday morning, I learned that she had passed away in her sleep.
Over the past week or so, the posts and discussions in the various Facebook groups I’m in has narrowed down on today. Not in anticipation of macaroni necklaces and candles from the school Mother’s Day stall, either. Not even in a laughing, what-weird-shit-will-my-family-buy kind of way either. There’s been the expected talk about how hard Mother’s Day will be for some mamas; those newly single, perhaps, or those grieving their own mums or even their own children. Those discussions can break your heart, it’s true. And I am one of those mums who spends this day missing my own.
Always be mindful of all the feelings people will be feeling this weekend. As I said in my video, this day is not easy for all. 🌹 I also want to wish a blessed & beaitiful weekend for all the women out there on this #MothersDaypic.twitter.com/VpN3cAT0HP
But another, very common thread that I’m seeing? It’s the entirely avoidable yet absolutely predictable expectation that their partners will do nothing at all to acknowledge the mothers of their children. Continue Reading
Some stories hit the news and never really leave our collective memories. There are many, but a couple of names will always make my heart clench whenever I read them. Those names are Dana McCaffrey and Riley Hughes. Both babies were only a few weeks old when they died, several years apart, as a result of contracting whooping cough (pertussis). If their names bring a tear to my eye, I can only imagine what it would be like to have carried them, birthed them, held them in my arms and loved them.