Writing about grief, hope, music, memory and community.
About us, about home
Grief, guilt and the long road through suicide loss
Support, community and the people who stay
The last time I saw Eira she was five and a half. She stood at the door in her school coat and she was explaining something with the authority that five-year-olds bring to explanations. I don't remember exactly what it was. Something about a snail.
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