Summer, Summer, Summertime

It has been that kind of summer, one that helps with the grieving. I feel my daughter everywhere I look - through the rustling leaves, in the fluffy white clouds and when I see squirrels running around doing their squirrely business (for some reason, I know that she'd be wild about animals). Last summer, in the thick of my grief, I cursed the sunshine and the long, bright days. Now I revel in them because they make me feel closer to her.

Things are ticking along well in the Big Smoke. We both have jobs, there's a world of adventure at our doorstop and our laughter moves from room to room in our lovely flat. Someone is still missing though, but we say her name and keep her with us in every thing we do.

We have fun a lot. I think we have to.

















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