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The Dementors Came and Never Left

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  The Dementors Came and Never Left It feels as though the Dementors from Harry Potter descended on my world on 1 February 2026, when my beloved David died, and have never left. Just like the Dementors in the Harry Potter books, they seem to have sucked all the happiness, warmth and light from life, leaving sadness, fear, anxiety and despair behind. There is a coldness inside me that nothing seems to reach. The frightening thought that happiness might never return only makes the pain worse, trapping me in a vicious circle of grief and hopelessness. The Dementors force people to relive their worst memories, leaving them feeling cold, powerless and without hope. That is how grief can feel. Memories that should bring comfort can suddenly overwhelm, while the future that once seemed full of possibilities now feels empty and frightening. From the outside, things might look reasonably normal. There are smiles, conversations and attempts to carry on, often accompanied by the reassuring w...
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JAPAN 2026 — Taking a Deep Breath and Finding My Way Back to Painting

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  JAPAN 2026 — Finding My Way Back to Painting I have just completed all the drawings in the sketch pad I took with me to Japan, and somehow, finishing that last page feels rather more significant than I expected. I hope you enjoy looking through it as much as I enjoyed creating it. Japan 2026 was my escape trip. There were 17 of us in total, including our UK Tour Manager and local guide. I chose Japan quite deliberately. It was somewhere I had never been, and somewhere I knew I was unlikely ever to have visited before. Most importantly, it held no memories for me. After losing David, I found myself struggling to find my way back to the things I had always loved. Chinese brush painting had been such an important part of my life, but I had simply lost my heart for it. I couldn't seem to find the enthusiasm, the concentration or, perhaps most of all, the confidence to pick up my brushes and paint. I hoped that going somewhere completely new might give me some breathing space. And per...
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People lied - Times doesn't heal, it doesn't get easier, it get harder

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  People lied - Time doesn't heal, it doesn't get easier, it gets so much harder. I haven't posted for a while. I was holding off until after his Memorial. I found it so hard to do, let alone say the word “ Funeral”, which upset some in the family. But that was how I coped at the time, and how I still feel, so Memorial it is. Two months later, I have finally managed to post that David's wishes have been met. He is free to roam the oceans, amongst the waves he loved so much. Six months have now passed. And it’s not getting any better, and I am NOT OK. I keep breathing. I keep getting up. I keep putting on the show that life expects of me. I smile when I am supposed to smile. I nod when I am supposed to nod. I tell people I am OK. I tell them I'm fine. But deep down, I am done. I am not broken, because broken things can usually be fixed. I am not lost, because lost things can sometimes be found. I am empty yet full of despair. I am a vessel that once lived, laughed an...
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My man of wax, forever and always, my hero

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  My David No one is ever truly gone until the ripples they cause in the world die away – until the clock they wound winds down, until the wine they made has finished its ferment, until the crop they sowed is harvested, or the tree they planted has reached the end of its seasons and shed its final leaf. The span of someone’s life is only the core of their actual existence. My David has reached maximum range and gone below the horizon, and although no longer visible on our screen of life, I am so very proud to say his trace will always remain present in the legacy of his work, and by everyone who knew and loved him. I will carry him with me always, as he continues to carry my heart with him. Not a day passes that he is not loved, missed, and remembered by me, and I thank him for the wonderful life we have had together. He always made me feel loved, beautiful and special. I will miss our banter, my ribbing him and they way he made ...
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Where My Heart Used to Be

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  Where My Heart Used to Be They say grief comes in waves, but no one tells you the size, how a calm sea can suddenly rise and darken the skies. They say grief comes in waves, crashing into you like a tsunami tide, dragging away everything you knew, everything safe, everything that survived. One moment I'm standing, holding myself together somehow, the next I'm drowning in memories, asking, "What do I do now?" Each wave finds me unexpectedly— while making tea, while folding clothes, while passing a place we used to go. And yes, you can brush your teeth whilst sobbing. You can answer questions whilst breaking. You can smile at the world while your soul is quietly shaking. It's exhausting. Deep-down, bone-aching, spirit-breaking exhausting. The kind that sleep cannot cure, because sleep itself has become a thief; bringing me dreams of my David, then waking me back to grief. Every part of me is yearning for him. Every heartbeat calls his name. Every sunrise feels the...
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