My letter to the Universe, written in the space between grief and grace, as my grandmother lies in a hospice far across Europe, still breathing, but already halfway home.
On the return of old demons, the slow loss of the woman who saved me, and the fierce refusal to surrender the peace I fought so hard to find.
On the quiet torment of anticipatory grief, and the mercy we dare not speak aloud
A reflection on grief, resilience, and the quiet courage of moving forward
About my last conversation with my Nan, before her surgery