I never used to like Father’s Day. It used to be a day where everything around me seemed to poke at the broken pieces of my heart — at a raw wound yet to be healed. It used to be a day where I felt nothing but anger. I was unforgiving towards my father, merely … Continue reading The Father’s Heart
I used to tell myself I was going to buy a bouquet of flowers a week (or until the last ones died) as a form of “treating myself.” And by bouquet of flowers I mean ruscus, camellia’s minus the camellia, or any kind of eucalyptus. No flowers really. Think minimal and green. I recently discovered that … Continue reading Pick Me Ups.