The terrible tragedy in Kensington last week caused me to once again ponder about the uncertainty and fragility of life. It was the second most horrific event in London this month following the June 4th London Bridge terror attack and the Finsbury Park terror attack the other day. In all three London atrocities, and particularly the blaze that ravaged the 24-storey residential building in west London, really did hit too close to home than I might want to admit, literally and figuratively, the realisation that a disaster can happen without an apparent warning. Continue reading
That’s the shadow of the tree next to my mother’s headstone. Took that picture on the fifth anniversary of her ‘homegoing’, and I thought I was fine when I visited her at the cemetery. But I blubbered all the way home. And I remember I took a walk in the woods (my brother and his family live in a neighbourhood with loads of beautiful old trees surrounding a golf course), to pull myself together before heading back for lunch with my family. That was five years ago. Continue reading
I lost my father on the 1st of November 1984. There are times when the grief is still fresh, but not as sharp as the pain of losing my mother when she died on the 15th of November 2009. I wanted to share with you what I’ve written on my diary on the 15th of January 2010, a couple of months after my mom passed on.