death of parents

The attic, bathed in a gentle light filtering through a small window, is cluttered with a multitude of boxes, each likely containing memories and relics of years gone by. An old wooden chair sits amidst a sea of boxes, papers, and photographs that seem to spill out of their containers. The scene evokes a strong sense of nostalgia and the passage of time, as the attic holds onto fragments of the past that have been stored away, perhaps forgotten but preserved in this dusty upper chamber of the house.

2024 Grateful 8: Döstädning

I came to Hungary with two suitcases and two pictures. What happened? How did I accumulate so much stuff? Where did it all come from?

Photo of my mum, an elegant lady with silver hair wearing a pink dress and gold jewelry sitting having a cup of tea. She's looking straight at the camera with a small smile on her face.

2024 Grateful 38: Thanks, Mam

I wonder if I’ll ever stop reaching for the phone to call my mother. Today, I wanted to ask her the name of our next-door

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Unpacking My Bottom Drawer

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