It's about time we stopped treating disability issues as an afterthought

A couple of weeks ago I decided to take Daisy to an inclusive Dance & Singing workshop at the Royal Festival Hall on the Southbank in London.  I had seen it advertised the day before and thought it would be a fun thing for us to do together on the Saturday morning.  We live in London, we have an amazing mass transport system, except, of course, if you are disabled like Diasy, then getting from A to B involves a lot more planning and preparation.



22nd March 2016

Today I was supposed to be in Brussels.  Today was supposed to be a day just for me, a first chance to get away with a friend and have time to wander, shop, visit museums, eat, drink.

Today ordinary people were going about their business when their lives were shattered by terrorist bombs.  They left their homes, their loved ones, never to return.  All over the world this is happening.  Not just in Brussels today, in so many cities lives are being changed immeasurably, forever.

I could have booked onto an earlier train, I could have booked a flight instead of the train, I could have been in Brussels when the bombs went off.

 When the first messages began filtering through about a bomb in Brussels airport we were already on the Eurostar train, with five minutes to go before departure tweets started coming through about further bombs on the underground and we took the decision to get off the train.  This was all to the great surprise of our fellow passengers and the platform staff, seemingly unaware of what was unfolding at the other end of the line.  Being a parent of a child with special needs you think about scenarios that other people probably don't have to contemplate, my main concern was being stranded in another country and not able to get back for Daisy.

 As we go about our daily business none of us know what is around the corner.  Today I was fortunate not to be caught up in a terrorist atrocity, my children were spared the stress of worrying about where there mother was and when she would come home.

I spent a lovely day in London with my friend, rather than being angry that our plans had been ruined we were grateful that the sun was shining and we were able to enjoy time in our wonderful city.

Tonight I'm thinking about the families in Belgium who never got to say goodbye.

Don't leave things unsaid, don't live with regret, don't live with fear, life really is too short.




Memories, milestones & wishing time would stand still

So we're mid way through March, spring is definitely here in London.  Yesterday I did a 20 mile training run in preparation for the London Marathon.  The Thames towpath was slowly coming back to life after winter, hawthorn blossom, clumps of daffodils.

Easter is looming full of rebirth and new life, but I want time to stand still, I wanted time to stand still from December last year.

I'm not alone in this, a recent conversation with another woman  also widowed prematurely in 2015 confirmed she felt the same as me.  We both discussed how New Year's Eve had affected us, I wanted the year to go on forever because the chime of the bells at midnight meant that we were no longer in the year he had died, that it was already in the past, she felt the same, it was a relief to know I was not being irrational.

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