This piece is inspired by my current situation as a mother of a twenty two year old son who has just been released from his first hospital stay. We have struggled for many years at home prior to this. My son is supposed to be going to live with his dad. I am trying to let go rather than enable, to face the reality rather than avoid it.

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The morning is bathed in a soft golden light.

The sounds gentle and distant, save the welcome melody of birdsong.

The door open and yard ahead filled with flowers and colour.

Beyond. Looking through the shape of the old pale green coffee pot filled with wild garlic flowers, I find you.

A memory of a loudly laughing child.

I sit and drink my coffee at the table. Silent. Alone.

Not quite content. Not engulfed in distress. Fear and hope mixed. Blending and rising.

My carefully curated world of cotton, linen, old tins, pots and various vintage shades of painted and scrubbed wood. Calm me, a little.

Missing you. Yet not. Missing the hope and dream of you, my child.

Overflowing with a fierce visceral love. But bathed in light and truth.

The fading dream of family that never was.

Calm air and wilful mind. Determined truth and daisies.

My life in silent morning coffee cups.

A doorway. A path. An opening. Promise.

I wonder. Which road will you decide to take today?