A tribute to Morag Wilson
I struggle to remember exactly how I got through those first few days, I remember people saying I would expect to feel numb and shocked, but I assumed they were referring to how I felt when I saw Morag die. When I did a mental ‘pat for my keys’ I still felt like me, but… Read more
Morag died around 1am on Sunday the 5th of May, a bank holiday weekend. I got home and went to bed. My Dad was staying with me so he and his wife looked after my 3 year old son, Jamie in the morning while I lay there staring at the ceiling. I had only slept… Read more
Life became about waiting for the funeral. It was a bizarre fixation, an almost unconscious expectation that once the funeral is done, we can start to rebuild. At the same time my brain was still trying to slam the brakes on everything, there was a very primal feeling of complete denial, and I guess bargaining… Read more
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