Archive

  • After the storm

    A storm has passed, gates are locked and paths blocked but the sun is shining and there is a small breeze. The blossom is white and hangs in tight clumps from the branches. I search for words but I need to tell you my daughter died. My daughter died. My daughter died. My daughter will…

    linnetmac

  • The web of care

    And all over again I am sitting here wrapped in that familiar web of dread, fury, anxiety, despair and love. It feels like there is nothing left to do but write. To find a home for this most toxic mix of emotions. Nothing in life prepares you for that wash of love when a child,…

    linnetmac

  • A place at the table

    I feel like a dog with a bone- all sparked off by a comedian’s use of the word re***d and almost 30 years of being the mother of a beautiful daughter with learning disabilities. This blog was not meant to be going here- it was meant to be looking in a different direction but there…

    linnetmac