Tag Archives: Dad

Hospital, My Father, and the Right to Grieve

As I write this. the local blackbird is singing its heart out. It’s around 05:30 am. The sun will be rising as I’m writing this . on a mental health hospital ward, again. I’m a bit ashamed to say that … Continue reading

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Dead Men’s Chair

The chair in front of the desk has two pieces of clothing on it. One is an orange jacket: plain; fairly big; in relatively good condition. The other is green and white; small(er); patterned with lines of x’s, and quite … Continue reading

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