You can't be mad at someone for dying
You can't be mad at someone for dying. April, 2013. In the backseat of the car my mother tells me my grandad died in hospital three hours ago. You can't be mad at someone for dying. April, 2020. In my old student room on Lancelot Road, my phone rings. 180 miles away my mother's voice tells me my grandma was found dead on her driveway. You can't be mad at someone for dying. April, 2025. I'm starting to think the month of April is cursed for me. I love the springtime because as the world slowly starts to turn green and come back to life it feels like I am too. I love the bright yellow daffodils and the slow lengthening of the days and it feels like some sort of victory, surviving another winter. Time has passed and I can just about cope with the death days of my grandparents, the strength of my mother's maiden name and my grandmother's handwriting etched into my skin shielding me from the sadness of those two memories. April arrives and it feels like I...