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tara-speaks.blogspot.com

Tara: 14/07/13 - 21/07/13

http://tara-speaks.blogspot.com/2013_07_14_archive.html

Saturday, 20 July 2013. I was told that when my Father's mother died, he was called in to do emergency surgery. A man came over to his house, crying, begging him to come over to the hospital and save his father, who for some reason, no other surgeon would touch. My Father got up and went, and the man was saved. Can you imagine doing surgery? Can you imagine doing emergency surgery? Right after the death of a much-loved parent? How can I cry and wail for such a man? Amazing, the power of a story. I think ...

tara-speaks.blogspot.com

Tara: 02/06/13 - 09/06/13

http://tara-speaks.blogspot.com/2013_06_02_archive.html

Thursday, 6 June 2013. The last conversation I had with my Father, I think I knew it was the last. A voice at the back of my head said, oh, you should tell him what's going on with you. Tell him you're writing a book. Tell him you're happy, or sad, or scared, or whatever. Share yourself. But what came out instead was I love you, Papa. And he said, I love you too, yes I do. Days later, I stood by his hospital bed, and we knew that he would not. I thought I'd recount every memory of the two of us, memories...

tara-speaks.blogspot.com

Tara: 09/02/14 - 16/02/14

http://tara-speaks.blogspot.com/2014_02_09_archive.html

Friday, 14 February 2014. Kind of a year in, on good days when lots is going on, it kind of feels like:. I lost something big, or small, something crucial, but I can't remember what or when or how. And importantly, like I don't know how to get it back. Like my tummy is empty, but no, it's not my tummy, and it's not food that'll fill it. Empty, and lost, still. Maybe I always felt this way, but now I have a good excuse. Subscribe to: Posts (Atom). Kind of a year in, on good days when lots is going.

tara-speaks.blogspot.com

Tara: 26/01/14 - 02/02/14

http://tara-speaks.blogspot.com/2014_01_26_archive.html

Saturday, 1 February 2014. Months and months of just nothing much. Tasks and lists, and getting the veg bag every week and wondering about deadlines. Will I get that job, will I want it if I got it? Boredom. A movie, coffees out. Plane ride home, plane ride back. On and on, round and round the mulberry bush. Straight face, flatlining. That's what grief does. It does not wail, or scream, or howl or screech. That's life, that's awakening, birthing, bleeding. Those Things screech and howl. Paris v. NYC.

tara-speaks.blogspot.com

Tara

http://tara-speaks.blogspot.com/2013/08/i-wanted-to-link-to-this-post-by.html

Thursday, 22 August 2013. I wanted to link to this. Post by the beautiful Claire Bidwell Smith. Claire writes about her life in California with her family, and I've been following her blogs for many years. She lost her parents young, to illness, and so when I first came across her writing, I felt . that feeling you feel when for an instant, you don't feel alone (except of course, I still have my Mother! The last lines of her post made me cry. She writes (in a letter to her daughters):. Paris v. NYC.

tara-speaks.blogspot.com

Tara: 18/08/13 - 25/08/13

http://tara-speaks.blogspot.com/2013_08_18_archive.html

Thursday, 22 August 2013. I wanted to link to this. Post by the beautiful Claire Bidwell Smith. Claire writes about her life in California with her family, and I've been following her blogs for many years. She lost her parents young, to illness, and so when I first came across her writing, I felt . that feeling you feel when for an instant, you don't feel alone (except of course, I still have my Mother! The last lines of her post made me cry. She writes (in a letter to her daughters):. And how, the very ...

tara-speaks.blogspot.com

Tara: 02/02/14 - 09/02/14

http://tara-speaks.blogspot.com/2014_02_02_archive.html

Tuesday, 4 February 2014. Letter to my Father. It's Mum's birthday today, and I'm away in England. I'm writing this on my office table. The one I was sitting at when we talked for the last time on the phone. We've changed the room now so the table doesn't look out of the window. It now faces the wall, so the window is behind us. It was too glare-y the other way. The Man and I sit together at the table when I work at home. It's cramped, but cozy and I love being near him. Are you trying to reach me, Papa?

tara-speaks.blogspot.com

Tara: 03/11/13 - 10/11/13

http://tara-speaks.blogspot.com/2013_11_03_archive.html

Monday, 4 November 2013. For the first time since my arrival in England 7 years ago, I find myself aching for winter. The cold, the blankness, the silence. Trees asleep in white woodlands, punctuated by ravens, by the soft swish of falling snow. Deep, quiet nights. Storms. I ache for storms, and then silence. This year, I will put my arms out of the window in the first winter storm. Then I will walk under the trees in the quiet after. Subscribe to: Posts (Atom). I wanted to see where you are.

tara-speaks.blogspot.com

Tara: Letter to my Father

http://tara-speaks.blogspot.com/2014/02/letter-to-my-father.html

Tuesday, 4 February 2014. Letter to my Father. It's Mum's birthday today, and I'm away in England. I'm writing this on my office table. The one I was sitting at when we talked for the last time on the phone. We've changed the room now so the table doesn't look out of the window. It now faces the wall, so the window is behind us. It was too glare-y the other way. The Man and I sit together at the table when I work at home. It's cramped, but cozy and I love being near him. Are you trying to reach me, Papa?