My beloved husband, Kent, died in January 2012, 3 years after diagnosis of a brain tumour. Our son was 2 1/2 and our daughter 3 months old. He and I were far too young. I am now hurtling through the black space of life without him.

Sunday, 3 February 2013

"Sweet Dreams and Flying Machines in Pieces on the Ground"*

Watching people living out their ordinary lives. The bits you most dreamed of, most wanted. It's like watching a movie. Life is being acted out in front of you just as you had imagined, but you're not a participant. You're the lone member of the audience, sitting in an uncomfortable seat, soon to return home to where you now belong. It's like watching your own life playing out before you on the other side of a 3 inch glass wall. You can see it all, but you'll never, ever get it.

Envy is not the word that comes to mind for now. Just deep, rock hard pain.


We used to go to outdoor/adventure shops occasionally for whatever reason. I always liked checking out the tents - the cool big dome tents with different rooms. I would dream of a day when we had children and could take them camping. They'd share their own little room and we'd share another. It would be SO much fun. I could hardly wait.

*From Fire and Rain by James Taylor


  1. As always I have no words. But I wanted to comment to let you know that I am here, reading and thinking of you, as always. xxx

  2. Thank you for sharing your story on National Radio this afternoon.
    Be strong
    Steve Davis