It is that time of the year again. Where celebrations of Diwali and Guy Fawkes happen around the country, but where our family takes some time out to celebrate Jamie’s birthday. Today used to be an extremely sad day for me. It would loom for weeks and I would spend the good part of
We are fast approaching November, or my “death month”. On the 5th of November it will be 4 years since Jamie died. Four. It seems like such a long time ago, yet still so recent. On the 17th it will be two years since my grandfather passed away. Sometimes it is like he isn’t gone.
So this might seem weird to those of you who don’t believe in this type of thing, but I do and in my own head this makes sense to me. I wouldn’t blame you for labelling me strange or a little psycho after you read this. It doesn’t really matter. This is my experience, as
Quite unexpectedly today has turned out to be a difficult day for me. Last night I received an e-mail from people that live in the UK that were friends of my grandfather. When I was about 16 my grandfather decided to take me up Table Mountain. He was always taking me on adventurous outings…to
So my grandfather’s funeral was on Saturday. My grandfather planned his own funeral long before he reached the point where he would need it. He explicity said he did not want any casket in the church, chose the hymns he wanted the congregation/choir to sing and requested the bagpipes play Amazing Grace. My grandfather has