My 90-year-old dad is slowly slipping away. Day by day, the flame in his candle grows dimmer, and I find myself watching that light with a grief too deep for words. There is something so heartbreaking about loving someone for your whole life and then having to stand quietly by as they slowly fade before…
Category: Childhood
The Stories We Keep
There is something about flour on the bench and the smell of cardamom and cinnamon in the air that loosens old stories. When I bake with my granddaughter in my kitchen, I notice that I begin again.The same stories. The same tone. Often the same hand gestures. I tell her about my grandmother’s kitchen —…
Stay, I Pray You
Last night I went to the theatre to see a live production of Anastasia, and from the moment it began, I felt myself being drawn into it completely. The costumes were exquisite, the music beautiful, the whole production tender and deeply moving. It was one of those rare performances where everything seemed to work together…
The Silent Clock
Where do the years go? They slip through our hands so quietly, and yet they do not disappear. They live on within us, just beneath the surface, waiting for the smallest thing to bring them back. A scent. A sound. A glimpse of light. And suddenly, time folds in on itself. Sometimes it is the…
Skip with me, nanna!
We were just walking, hand in hand, the way grandmothers and little granddaughters do. The day was mild, the sky wide and blue, and her tiny fingers wrapped around mine with the kind of trust that softens your soul. “Nanna,” she said, looking up with a grin that could melt clouds, “Would you like to…
To my grandson
You made me a nanna —from the very first moment your dad placed you gently in my arms,just a minute old, soft and new,you stole my heart completely.And you’ve held it ever since. You, my little ray of sunshine,with that huge smile that stretches all the way to your shining blue eyes.Eyes that sparkle with…
Storyteller
My phone flashes the warning again: Storage almost full. Again. I take a lot of photos. Not for an audience. Not to curate a flawless life. I take them to gather crumbs — breadcrumbs scattered through the forest of my days. Each image a small, shining proof that I noticed. That I felt. That I…
All I Wanted
When I was a little girl and someone asked me what I wanted to be when I grew up, I never hesitated. I didn’t dream of empires or impressive careers. I simply said, “a mum.” That was all I ever wanted. Not just in name, but in the deepest, most wholehearted way. To love. To…
Completely Alive
The night couldn’t be more perfect for a stroll along the beach. The breeze is gentle, and the sea mirrors its stillness. I inhale deeply, letting the scents of the evening fill my senses—the salty mist in the air, the refreshing scent of eucalyptus drifting from the trees nearby. My toes sink into the sand,…
Grandfather Clock
There is a particular kind of solace that lives in my family’s old grandfather clock. It hangs on the wall downstairs, keeping time with its steady, gentle tick-tock. On days when life feels brittle — when I am frazzled or unsettled — I pause and listen. The sound wraps around me like a lullaby. It…
Apples of Gold 