I must have arrived home to the sounds of my father’s classical music. There’s a photo of me, 3 days old, a shriveled prune with a purple claw hanging over the edge of a crocheted blanket, propped up next to one of my father’s trombones which outsizes me by ten times.Read More
My father recovering from a stroke.Read More
My lovely niece, Lizzie, lives very close to nature. It's a childhood very different to mine and different than my son's, although he gets to experience it alongside her when we visit. Through watching her comfort and ease with animals and dirt, I've become more acclimated. I learn a lot by watching her. Not least of all, how not to be scared of worms.
In the window of our adopted home in London for part of Summer, 2016.
I can be stern with him. I can tell him he's being silly and say he knows I'm coming back soon. But when he falls to pieces because I'm heading out the door, there's a part of me that melts and never wants to stop feeling this important to him.