I remember sitting on the sofa with my mum at five years old, crying that I missed my dad. I remember not knowing what I was sad about, I was two when he passed, so what did I miss? I remember being told he would be proud of me growing up. I remember being told I looked like him, acted like him, that I carried him, within me. But who was that? Who was he? Who am I if I portray a person I never even knew?
Read MoreIt’s a funny thing waiting. We all patiently - or impatiently - for our coffees, a letter, a phone call, an appointment. But what about situations where you didn’t place the order or you didn’t make an appointment? When you don’t know when or what your delivery’s going to be? We all know this kind of waiting room - the waiting room of life.
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