A year later....a post of glowing moments

So, I don't blog anymore, In all honesty I haven't known what to say. To see the stark reality written down is simply too hard at times, But we have survived the first year! A year ago today I first fell in love with my children. A year ago today I became a Mummy and we became a family. It has been the hardest and most challenging year of my life. I never could have expected the hurricane which engulfed us but also the depth of love, protectiveness and pride in our little family. My mum often tells me off for not being more positive, and she is right (as always!). It's hard when you live in the midst of such complex and exhausting emotions and behaviours to see the positives and really measure just how far we have come together. So that's what this blog is about! I want to celebrate our family, my children.

#glowmos means glowing moments. It is a twitter hashtag started to celebrate those moments which may feel small and insignificant to others but to us adopters mean the world.

The biggest change is that my daughter (known as Pixie for anonymous purposes) now wants me as a mother. She can accept nurture from me now (on her terms). She will sit on my knee, allow me to care for her when she is hurt or scared. She has let me feed her and change her nappy, She allows me to meet her needs (mostly). I credit this to Theraplay. Following on from the last post we asked for help and we have now had 17 sessions of Theraplay where a lady comes to our house once a week and facilitates activities to help us bond. One of the activities is blanket swing, We swing her between us gently in a blanket singing lullabies, Pixie loves it but has never been able to look at me, covering her face with the blanket. Session 17....she looked at me! She gave herself to me. She maintained eye contact as I sang to her. She surrendered herself to me.  #glowmo.

She says goodnight to me now. It took 10 months for her to say goodnight as I left the room. Goodbyes are so hard for her as she never fully believes you will return. She is now much better and instead of saying goodbye we use a variety of phrases such as 'back soon big baboon', 'take care polar bear' and so the goodbyes are not as final. Now, she looks at me and says "Goodnight Mummy!" #glowmo.

I have been able to leave her for short periods. There is still payback and it is fierce and intense but relatively short lived, But I am at the point now where I have to leave her for my own sanity! I have to claw back some time for myself and I feel we can build up that trust that I will return. The last time I left her I met her again at the park. For the first time her face lit up when she saw me! She ran to me opened armed shouting "Mummy I missed you!" Yes, I cried. #glowmo

Pixie and her brother (from now on to be known as Pickle....and he is a little pickle) have not always been together. They have a complicated history. When they first came here they just felt like 2 children who lived together, without any real bond. Now...they adore each other! Watching their relationship develop has been an utter joy. He loves her deeply and she him. I'm so glad they have each other. He has a real ability to calm her and to break the mood. He is a beautiful soul and she loves him too. She always wants to play with him and make sure he has a drink/snack/treat if she has one. There are issues but on the whole they are best friends. They will always be, its an unbreakable bond. #glowmo


My son is an absolute delight! Loving, funny, happy, easy going. Cute as buttons especially with his glasses!  I am yet to hear him call me mummy but I know he will one day. He loves me and needs me and I him. He gives me so much love and brings laughter to the house constantly. He is not talking yet but I am confident he will. Nothing gives me more joy than his little hand taking mine, looking up at me and smiling as he pushes his glasses up onto his face. Thinking of him a year ago on the cusp of being a little boy, not walking yet, is astonishing. For the first few months he was so quiet and placid we were worried, Now he has a huge personality and everyone who meets him adores him. #glowmo

Pixie now tells me she is hungry and asks snacks (constantly). This is amazing for her. She is beginning to believe we will meet her needs, we will make sure she is fed. She is checking that we will continue to do this. She regressed in terms of toilet training and needing nappies and also needing to be fed as a baby. She is now almost out of that regression. She is using the potty and is in pull ups. She feeds herself mostly and will ask for us to feed her when she needs it. I am so proud of her. #glowmo

We have days were we feel like a family. We have managed proper days out! We have managed Sunday lunch at my mums. We had a whole day out with a bunch of friends which involved going on a rowing boat and having a BBQ.  A princess birthday party. We are slowly managing to expand our world and our experiences. Sometimes it doesn't work...but we are having successful days where it does. And its glorious! #glowmo

And on the anniversary of meeting them for the first time we had our bestest friends come visit us and meet the children for the first time. This is my friend I have known all my life. They are beautiful people with beautiful children. We went out for the day and had a picnic, paddled in the stream and went for a long walk, ending up with food with other family members. What was remarkable about this was watching Pixie with their little boy of the same age. They were so comfortable together! I have never seen her so relaxed or content around another child, They just got each other. They held hands and interacted beautifully all day. I didn't have to watch her for her triggers, on edge, waiting to intervene if needed. I knew she was safe, happy. I have never seen her like that. #glowmo

We still have a long journey ahead of us. We have battles to overcome. But, in a year, the progress really is astonishing. My children are so astonishing. I am so proud and so blessed. Family life has not quite been what I thought it would be but this weekend I have so much hope for our future.
Thank you to everyone who helped us get this far. #glowmo

3 months later.....parenting trauma

So, I've been wanting to write this post for 2 months. Every time I've begun to formulate it things have changed. Every time I think I've begun to make sense of something it has shifted. But I've come to the point where I think I have a reasonable understanding of my daughter and the effects trauma have had on her and I need to make sense of it to share with family and friends. There is lots  I want to write about so apologise for any rambling but I want to focus (like pretty much all adoption blogs) on what it's like to parent trauma. Because that is what it feels like I am doing right now.

Firstly I want to talk about my boy. He had a very different life experience from his sister. However, we are still his fourth home, fourth set of people to take care of him. Although I potentially see signs of attachment issues he is too young to really know. He is developing into a very cheeky young chap! He constantly makes us laugh and seeks and openly gives warmth, love, affection, cuddles. It is a privilage to watch him grow and develop.

This post is primarily about my daughter. I am not going to go into details about her life story, that is her story to tell not mine. I'm also conscious that this blog will be out in the ether forever and I do not want to write anything which will make her embarrassed. I am going to use this however to help raise awareness of the effects of early trauma and to help friends and family understand so they can support her and us. We are blessed to have a huge amount of support and people who want to learn and understand. My daughter's first year of life has had a significant impact on how her brain developed. Because of this she lives in the survival, primal part of our brain which is all about the amygdala - or as we know it the flight flight response. This is all she knows. Everything is about survival for her. New experienced, new people are terrifying. Are they safe? Will they hurt her? Will they be taking her away? Will they be the next people she will call mummy or the next house she will live in? She is constantly hyper vigilant and this is utterly exhausting for her. This is less obvious to people when we go to visit people or places but that is because that is how she survives. She knows that to make sure her needs are met she must charm people. She also has an ambivalent attachment so she will focus on one person wherever she is within seconds of meeting them. She has no need for me then, she has got someone else to look after her. She will not look for me or come to me for help of there is another female in the room. This is also a really good opportunity for her to reject me. 'See Mummy! I don't need you!' In these circumstances it is really helpful if people redirect her to me "let your mummy help you...thats mummy job.....lets check with mummy first". She must control absolutely everything, wherever she is. She will not listen to anything. You cannot influence her play. She must be in control at all times.

She has developed a very push/pull relationship with me. She is desperate to love, to feel love, to be close but to love or to allow herself to be loved is terrifying for her. I need you/I don't need you. Pick me up/go away. I want to love you/i'm scared to love you. Any affection is purely on her terms. We are all so fleeting and temporary in her life what if she allows herself to love and we leave her? I left her for a day to attend a course on attachment and since she has paid me back and then some.  (Ironic).She was so scared of being abandoned and now she is punishing me. 6 days of rage and hurt, disregulation and chaos. This is what makes her feel safe right now...to live in a world of chaos. To protect herself from being hurt again. To give us her trauma.
 To let us know how bad she is feeling, how scared she is. To drive us away because let's face it we are going to leave anyway. She pushes and pushes and pushes. She screams and rages with a terrifying Intensity for one so young . So how do we deal with this? We have to get her to be in the limbic part of her brain. This is where her emotions can develop and her attachment can build. We swing, rock, jump and tickle. We remain calm. We do not leave her but we move her and her brother away to keep ourselves and him safe. We do not punish her but try to name her feelings. Give her space to rage until she is calm and then try and 'wonder' what she might be feeling. We tell her we love her and she is safe. The wondering is hard...whenever we try and talk to her she goes into freeze. She does this a lot when it's just to much for her to bear. She will leave us completely. I have been advised to bring her back from that immediatly, to ground her because wherever she has gone it is not a good place. So we say her name, touch her forehead, stroke her arm. But she hasn't listened and will not listen to any of our therapeutic attempts. She also spends a lot of time in flight... manic, disregulated, spinning circles. The equivalent of putting your fingers in your ears and saying "la la la can't hear you!" We also limit experiences which could cause her anxiety. This means no play groups, no new people. We provide her with consistency, stability and routine. And remind ourselves that this will not be forever.


Let me say this about my daughter....isn't she incredible???? She deals with this everyone day. Could you live like that? She is extremely quick and clever. She is so funny! She dances and wiggled her bottom. She loves bathtime, playing outside, exploring, play doh. She can use scissors, recognises her name and some letters. She says sorry. She tells me she is scared, worried but can't tell me why. Isn't that amazing for an almost 3 yr old! I am so so so proud of her. She is remarkable.

(I haven't mentioned here how much I have lost my temper with her. How I've been pushed so far I snap at her. How some days I can barely parent her. How many times I've watched her spiral out of control with no idea what to do, how to help. How I've stood crying feeling so guilty at how cross I am with her, how many different strategies I've tried and failed before giving up and putting the tv on.)

We have hit a set back. We have asked for more help. But I am still confident with the right support we will get there. Before I left her  for a day we had made really good progress and I'm sure we will again.

We have found our stork!

So,  it has all happened! We met our children today and we are over the moon. I haven't blogged for a long time so thought it was about time I updated everyone!

Over the last 15 months we have been through 8 weeks of social worker visits (your house is never as clean as when as sw comes round!), had every area of our lives examined and unpicked, completed 8 homework assignments, attended 3 preparation days and been to an horrendous approval panel where we were grilled over everything including our sex life and contraception use (was not happy. We are doing a good thing, why are we treated like we are on trial?) We were approved and then the real testing times began...the wait... the watching of the phone..... the constant checking of emails....but then 9 weeks after being approved it happened......

The Thursday before the Easter holidays we received an email from our SW about 2 children. Its a sad case she warned, read through and let us know if you have any questions. We immediately knew we wanted to know more! Annoyingly, due to the Easter holidays we ended up having to wait the longest 2 weeks of our lives! Eventually we managed to meet up on the 20th April, the day of our sons first birthday. Interestingly, the year before on the 19th April we attended our first adoption open evening! Strange to think our son was born the following day. (Also, we were approved on the 7th Feb and the placement order for our children went through on the 8th Feb! My husband tells me not to look for signs but,.....)

Anyway we met and had our questions answered. The children began to feel real and come to life (its really hard to get a sense from a report). They said they were not looking for anyone else for these children and that was it, we were matched!!

So the last 7 weeks have been all about us nesting and I've thoroughly enjoyed every second of it. We have been officially approved at matching panel (a much friendly affair than approval) though gruelling. But we were prepared, we knew these children.

People have been asking how we feel, are we scared nervous? And the genuine answer is no! We are not scared, we are not anxious, we are ready (as ready as anyone ever can be). We understand the possible needs our children may have. They have been through huge instability and to my daughter, a mother is someone who cannot meet her needs. She may reject me, she may struggle to bond.

People keep telling us how happy they are for us, how exciting it is and how lucky our children are. And they are right it is wonderful. But what people don't tend to think about is what our children are about to go through. They are about to be taken from the only stable and loving environment they have ever known. They are about to suffer significant loss. Again! When we will be celebrating when we have our family home for the first time, they will probably be feeling scared, unsure, insecure. How long will they stay at this home? They do not understand that this is their forever home. They do not understand that they will never leave. Everytime a SW visits, she will wonder if they have come to take her away.... again.

And to those people who say they are young, they wont remember, it wont affect them .....this is simply not true. The effects of neglect change the way the brain forms. They may not actually remember details but they may have scary feelings triggered, for example the feeling of being hungry and not knowing when the next time they are fed will be or feeling cold or hurt and no one attending to their basic needs, their basic human rights. Our daughter is fiercely independent because no one was there to look after her properly so she doesn't always trust that anyone else can. She must look after herself. But through therapeutic parenting, PACE, naming feelings and many other techniques and strategies hopefully we will be able to work through these potential issues.

And to those people who say 'catch up on your sleep now, your lives are about to be turned upside down, make the most of your time together now'... I know you mean well, and you're not wrong, but we have wanted this for 7 years! I've had plenty of sleep! We have had each other for 17 years! We are so ready to be a family. Perhaps if you have been able to have one easily you do not understand how desperately we have wanted this. Sorry, it just really irritates me!

Although, ironically, on the way to meet our children this morning this REM song came on the radio

'It's the end of the world as we know it'

but as the lyrics continue.....

'but I feel fine'.

I am a mummy to two amazing children. We are a family. Dreams do come true.

A letter to my children on the day we first met.

To my daughter

I will never forget the first time I saw you. I had to run and get a parking permit and your carer popped out the door and showed us where to park. As I began to turn away I saw you at the window looking at me. You looked so excited! When we came back we entered the house and you came to the door. I had 2 gifts bags with bubbles, sweets and a toy each for you and your brother. Your eyes fixated on them and I gave them to you. You ran into the front room and pulled out the large tube of bubbles excitedly exclaiming 'bubbles!' You then turned to your brothers bag and pulled out his and kindly gave them to him. You both enjoyed holding them and were desperate to open them ("op it!") but your carer said "later in the garden". "Later, garden" you repeated. You played on the floor for a while. You showed us how you can jump. You were a little tentative initially but you were happy and as time went on you relaxed more and more and began talking to us. You shared your sweets giving one to Daddy and one to Mummy. You knew that these were our names but to you they are just labels. I wonder how much of this you understand right now?

You needed a wee and were happy for me to take you. I needed a wee too. We washed our hands and you said "mummy come" and we went back down stairs. The next time you needed a wee you pointed at the toilet and said "mummys turn"!

You showed us how fast you can run down the corridor and back. You were so full of energy, so relaxed, so much fun. You laughed and giggled and chatted away, still clutching your bubbles. You were so kind and shared everything with your brother and the other little girl staying there. You began to be really comfortable saying mummy and daddy. We took the bubbles outside and it was obvious that you were completely in your element! You and your daddy really began to bond at that moment. You spent ages saying "Daddy bubbles! Daddy again! Daddy more!" You were able to work out how to open the bubbles and as the solution began to run out you realised you could transfer more solution from the full one to the empty one so you could continue with your tube. It was fascinating watching you work out how to solve this problem! I watched your Daddy fall head over heels in love with you. He pushed you backwards and forwards in your little trolley and your face was full of joy and happiness.

When we went inside you sat on my lap and we read stories together. When we had lunch you made sure that daddy had a drink and a sandwich. You made him feed you your yoghurt even though you can do it yourself. You then made me do it too! We spent the rest of the day outside playing until we felt we had really overstayed our welcome and began to drag ourselves away. You didn't want us to go... but when you realised that we were you pushed us out the door!

I loved watching you and your Daddy get on so well. You haven't really known any men in your life so Daddy is a bit of a novelty to you right now. You have had lots of Mummies, some better than others. I will prove to you that I am your mummy now and that you can trust me. I will meet your needs and always be there for you. If you try and push me away I will never go. You have my heart now and forever. I am already so proud of you. You haven't had the easiest start to life and yet you are clever, kind, loving and happy. I know we will have challenges down the road but, my darling, we will face them together.

To my son

When we entered the room you were sat on the floor. Your beautiful big blue eyes gazed up at me. I sat next to you and said hello. You looked a bit puzzled. I wonder if you were confused having seen our picture and heard our voices on the talking photo album we had made for you. After ten minutes of staring intently at us you bum shuffled your way onto my lap, into my arms and firmly into my heart. You sat there for ages with your tube of bubbles in hand, just watching us with interest, taking it all in. You stared at your daddy and I passed you over to him, you sat in his arms and gazed up at him. Your hand went to his face and into his mouth! You seemed to love the feel of his beard. You were so happy and relaxed. We went out into the garden and I played peekaboo with you in your playhouse. You loved opening and closing the window and laughed as I surprised you through the window. It felt so easy and so natural to be with you. You went off for your nap, waking up an hour and a half later. You happily ate your lunch and when you had finished you came to me and we went and played outside again. You fit in my arms perfectly. You were so relaxed and happy, not once did you grumble or fuss. When your big blue eyes connected with mine you smiled everytime. You are such a delightful little boy. I am so blessed that I will be able to be there for so many of your firsts. Your first steps, your first words, your first proper pair of shoes, your first time in a swimming pool. I cannot wait to bring you home so we can start the next part of this chapter together.

I just want to know who you are

                          I just want to know who you are. 

I’m ready to know you. I’m desperate to know you. I think about you all the time. I call you by different names, different genders (the boy’s room, the girl’s room, when we bring the twins home…). I try and guess you. Your age. Your hair colour. Your eye colour. What do you like? Will I be decorating rooms with superheroes or princesses? Cars or animals?  What makes you happy? Do you even know that? Where are you? How far away are you from me right now?  What are you doing? Are you safe? Are you warm? Are you content? Are you in someone’s arms right now who is loving you and preparing you for me to take over? Or are you scared, cold, hungry, lost, alone, waiting for someone to help you. Perhaps you are happy. Perhaps you don’t really understand that where you are isn’t safe for you. You must be so confused little one.

Oh but!

I’m going to be a mum.

 I’m going to be your mum. I can’t deny I’m stupidly, selfishly excited about that! I feel you in my arms…… (I know it sounds romantic and naff but I do, I feel you). Or at least I feel your absence. I know one day you will lay there and fill that gap. I understand I am talking from my deep rooted longing to be a mother. I wouldn’t be here doing all this if I didn’t feel that! The fact that you won’t have come from my body doesn’t bother me one bit. You are my child. My children. I know that already. I love you already (I know, I know, I’m being romantic, naff and idealistic but I do, I love you).

But……

I do not know you. Yet. I look forward, with such joy, to getting to know you. To figure you out. To understand what makes you happy or sad and how to make you feel better.  To learn your bedtime routine and how to calm you. Which stories you enjoy and you favourite foods. To learn to spot the triggers, if necessary, and help you deal with them. To find what makes you laugh and which songs you love to sing.

I do not love you. Yet. I am in love with the idea of you, but how can I love you when I don’t know you? Yet! 

Oh but!

My darlings, I will love you fiercely and forever. Because you will be mine and I will be yours. We will travel this road together, wherever it takes us, tied together forever. 

I just want to know who you are.

Adoption should not be a last resort!

Over the last few months I have been asked the same question quite a few times and it's really niggled at me.

The question is this...

"Why did you give up so easily?"

This question is in reference to the fact that we 'only' had 2 goes at IVF. Several things irritate me about this. Firstly 

Secondly, to be brutally honest, IVF is f*cking horrible. It is invasive, traumatic and nearly destroyed my mental health. It rocked my relationship more than I ever thought possible. The grief we felt tested us. Luckily, we found strength in each other too, and this overcame everything else. When you are in the IVF bubble nothing else matters. You think about nothing else. The constant push and pull of hope and devastation is exhausting and overwhelming. Ultimately, I decided that I did not want to put myself through it anymore and my husband did not want to watch me go through it. And, we are both sooooo much happier to be out of that world. Don't get me wrong, I completely admire people who keep going through the process again and again but stopping treatment was the right decision for us. 

Thirdly, and very importantly, I do not see this as 'giving up'. I am not giving up on my dream to be a mother, for my husband to be a father, for us to have children and be a family.  I will still have all of these things, we have just taken a different path. The adoption process is also pretty tough. It's been a lot longer than I anticipated and the scrutiny, at times, has been unbearable. The questions, the repetition, the pulling apart of our relationship, the paperwork, our finances, our home and our family and friends have been intense. 

This makes me giggle every time!

We are lucky to have an extremely lovely and skilled social worker, whom we trust, guiding us through the process as well as all the lovely twitter tweeps providing advice, support and pearls of wisdom. I hassle them almost daily! 

Fourthly, and most crucially, my husband and I never wanted to see adoption as a last resort. It didn't sit right with us that we should try everything, and then, only then, when we have no other choice and have exhausted all other options, adopt a child. Adoption is not to be undertaken lightly. Parenting traumatised children is not, by all accounts, a walk in the park, to put it mildly! Yes,we wanted to see if it was possible to have our own children. I think had we not tried that would always have been a question I asked myself.....what if? At least now I know we gave it a shot. IVF is addictive in some ways and it sucks you in, but I think deep down I knew this wasn't our path. 

 So perhaps I feel this way because I have always thought it would end in adoption for us ,which made it easier to stop treatment.  The Adoption and Fostering building in my town was opposite a pub. When I first began 'going up town' drinking I would often look at it and think.... "I will be there one day". We always said that even if IVF was successful we would have looked at adoption for our 2nd child. Indeed, if you have read this blog from the beginning then you will see that it is a thread running all the way through. I do not like the thought that my children, if they were ever to ask, would find out that they were considered the last chance on our list of having children. We want them to know we always wanted them. Ultimately, we want to help, to give children who deserve it a home, a family, however challenging that maybe. After all, what better thing can you do in this life? 

So here we are. Happy, excited, terrified, following our own path and full of hope and love for our children, whoever they will be. 

*All thought and opinions, are, as always, my own. 

I remember the night my Dad died.

Today, I want to talk about my Dad. On Wednesday it was 4 years since he died. I think about my Dad often. Look at his photos, light a candle. But, I rarely allow myself to think about the night he died. The memories are locked up tightly in a box up high to the right of me. If I stretch my arm up to the right hand corner of my ‘presence’ or my ‘aura’ or my ‘bubble’ I can feel the box. But I don’t open it. It is too painful. This week the memories have rippled to the surface and seeped out. And so to help me deal with them I felt it would help to write them down.

·       I remember the phone call from my Mum to say he had collapsed. 6 o’clock, Friday night. We’d just sat down and poured a drink.

·       I remember being stuck behind the slowest driver in the world. My husband overtook him in the end. The ten minute journey took forever.

·       I remember as we drove up to the house my husband saying “oh god”. I hadn’t seen him at that point.

·       I remember the cold, the darkness. He was lying on the drive outside the front door.

·       I remember my mum repeatedly calling an ambulance, which took an age.

·       I remember my Dad saying “I’m dying”

·       I remember him rolling over him car keys causing the automatic locking system and lights to keep flashing on and off.

·       I remember his ear phones wrapped around his neck and could hear the music playing.

·       I remember trying to give him mouth to mouth out of complete desperation. He pushed me away and said “no Sofie, don’t.” This is the last thing he ever said to me.

·       I remember the neighbours quietly joining us, supporting us.

·       I remember the ambulance turning up, just one man and a car, and my mum saying “should we complain about the wait time?” and me thinking “for god sake just let him get on with his job”.

·       I remember him calling for another ambulance and sending us to get overnight clothes.

·       I remember looking at my mum and exchanging a glance which said “he won’t be coming home though”. We just knew.

·       I remember phoning my brothers to tell them. My eldest was on his way from Norfolk with his family, for an early Christmas get together. They spent the journey not knowing if he would be alive or dead by the time they got here.

·       I remember my other brother’s voice breaking when I told him he had to meet us at the hospital as he said “ok”.

·       I remember my dad’s eyes rolling and him foaming at the mouth as my mum and I screamed at him in the streets to hold on, to keep fighting. I take a little comfort in the fact that the last thing he would have heard was our voices fighting for him and telling him we love him.

·       I remember the paddles, trying to bring him back.

·       I remember knowing he was gone.

·       I remember the ambulance arriving, and as they took him away, they didn’t put the sirens or lights on.

·       I remember meeting my family in the dreary, bleak, beige bereavement room.

·       I remember my eldest brother and his family arriving, my teenage nieces not really knowing what was going on. They shouldn’t have been there.

·       I remember the Dr coming in to prepare us, telling us that his heart was incredibly weak.

·       I remember going to see him. I believe he waited until we were all there together.

·       I remember his face was yellow and peppered with bruises from where he fell on the gravel.

·       I remember families around us looking at us with such pity.

·       I remember crying and my shaking my head at my nieces who burst into tears.

·       I remember the Dr telling us there was nothing more we could do, and how matter of fact my mum was.

·       I remember going to see him again, in a different room, I had to ask my husband if he was dead or alive at that point. He had to tell me again that he was dead.

·       I remember the touch of his skin, I will never forget that feeling.

·       I remember driving home and the first thing I said was “who will walk me down the aisle?” I am thoroughly ashamed at this.

·       I remember pulling his glasses out of my coat pocket and saying “what do I do with these now?”

·       I remember us all sitting around the table and my mum saying “how will I cope financially?”

·       I remember every light in the house flashed on and off repeatedly for a few seconds. This has never happened before or since.

·       I remember a toy from A bugs life,  which my dad had bought me when I was at Uni and poorly, which I hadn’t seen for at least ten years and which hadn’t worked for longer, was in the spare room where I was sleeping. At 3 o’clock in the morning it went off, laughing manically. I have been unable to make it work since.

·       I remember the next day I phoned all friends and relatives. I noticed an answer message flashing (neither of my parents knew how to work it) I pressed the button, and it was my Grandmas voice, who died 2 years earlier, almost to the day, calling my dad’s name. I’m convinced she was letting us know she had him, they were together.

I remember the night my Dad died. And now, back in the box you go.