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The Maybe McQueen Blog

I am sitting in the silence of a large house near the ocean, Indi is asleep on the sofa, her tiny little rib cage lifting gently up and down and for the first time in a very long while, there is silence, space and time.

I’ve been trying to write for weeks but just haven’t been able to commit to creating the time to untangle and share the peculiar and very layered emotional roller coaster that I have been going through recently. Which, along with end of year madness, work commitments, Christmas, New Year and very LONG school holidays, is completely due to the fact, that I’ve had fly in from the UK, not only Andy’s gorgeous parents, but so too, the majority of my immediate family, all HERE at the same time.

One of the strangest things about grief for me is that it has created a kind of internal capacity barometer and by capacity I mean, my ability, in – fact my inability, to deal with the emotional needs of others, who perhaps cross an emotional boundary that feels like it somehow compromises my way of passionately living on and I guess to a bigger degree, whilst I loathe the word, how I actually cope. And as you can imagine when you bring together a group of people who’s varied expectations, needs and coping mechanisms of their own, are all SO loaded and bruised with the fragility of loss, the air can get a little heavy to say the least.

I am writing today in the first solo 5 minutes I have had since coming away with the cubs and Andy’s lovely parents, just under a week ago. 
We are staying in a part of Australia that resembles paradise and where I can actually hear the ocean crashing in as I type. So why is it that the kids and I feel so unsettled and that Indi who barely even remembers her daddy, has dreamed about him almost every night and Jesse, whose independence startles me, has not left my side for a second.

It is simply mind blowing the scale in which one can be shaken by the force of somebody else’s grief. And whilst there is ALWAYS an abundance of love and respect for the sheer scale and power of the individuals loss, there is equally the necessity for the time and space needed to reground one’s self in what, why and how YOU wish to rebuild, re create and live on through what for some, is almost never ending pain and for others becomes the fuel to drive living life at a whole other level.

Yesterday as we hopped in the car for a short drive to meet some friends for lunch, the GPS decided it was not going to work. My instant response was to start driving in the general direction that we were going and trust whole-heartedly that either the GPS would reboot, or we would just find the way to our destination, even if we took the odd wrong turn along the way. However my father in law had a very different response.

‘I would never ever begin a journey with out knowing exactly where I was going.’ Was the profound sentence that he spoke, in his deep and very melodic voice and whilst the words were spoken in a very passive and non specific way, it in fact, to my ears, stripped naked the figure, that I saw in that moment, had walked through life with so much fear and my heart felt like it was splitting open, as I began to imagine the pain of this father who was so powerlessley unable to save his son.

But just as quickly as I felt his pain, I had to let it go, in order to jump back onto the raft that I had worked so hard to build to sail the cubs and I back onto dry  and safe land, away from the sadness and the pain and to a place that was filled with the possibility of growing loss into a love of life and ALL that it has to offer.

And right there it hit me like a soccer- punch to the side of my head and as I watched his profound and very powerful words evaporate in the summers heat,  I realised that my way and indeed the cubs way of navigating our way through life after andy, has and is ALL about setting out in the general direction of where we most want to go and trusting so very deeply that one way or another, we WILL get there.

The conversation of grief is as wide as an ocean and so unimaginably deep that it is impossible to define in one small conversation, so todays post is not about the right way or the wrong way, but about what it will take for you, to find YOUR way, to get the most out of your one incredibly precious life and and to remember that what ever happens along the way, the detours, the wrong turns, the bumps and the almighty crashes, that they are ALL a part of life’s crazy adventure….

Please take the time to share your insights, experiences and thoughts and post your piece below.


Nothing but love …








  • Rivke

    Love the directions/GPS stances. I am very much a jump in the car and think about destination later, the see what happens kind of gal, where almost everyone around me is all ‘must have directs/gps’. LOL!

    It often makes me laugh.
    My son is much like me and we will be in the car trying to let the powers that be direct us and we play ‘left or right’, where we just shout out either one and let chance decide what turn to take.

    Glad you have found a moment to write and express. Much gratitude for your time and words.

  • Vivi

    Dear Vashti,

    I really admire you for the way you were and are able to “rebound” from your grief to this other place where you are always moving on and appreciating the gift that life is, with the hard times and the happier ones.

    Today you came back, you wrote again, shared again. Today is another part of the adventure and I Thank you for sharing it with us, for being always such an inspiration.

    Lots of Love.
    Vivi xx

  • Daniel

    I kid you not, I was thinking about this blog and how long it had been since there had been a new post (merely a commentary on how much I missed it!) only moments before your MMQ newsletter tweet came in with a link to this post – and for me, it really has come right on time.

    I have been dealing with the loss of a different nature for about a year, but it has revved up in how often it is choosing to rear its heavy head of grief, especially within the last few months.

    I can’t imagine what you go through, the waves you are forced to tearfully surf – and I don’t equate my own loss with yours but it bears many similar hallmarks, and boy does it hurt like a thousand fresh wounds and bruises.

    I got so comfortable in an old life with someone I loved, and who loved me right back, so comfortable and happily content that when it was in fact suddenly ripped away from me, I sort of instantly went numb and didn’t know what to say, do or even feel. I had finally relinquished a large part of my identity into this person and into this life that we had waited so long to have, and allowed my heart to invest in both of them like I never had before, and haven’t since. So when it came to an extremely abrupt end, BAM just like that – over, no words, no goodbyes – I sort of just stood back up and began the long walk back in the general direction of who I was before then.

    That was over a year ago, and there are days where I think I’ve got it under control, and maybe in fact actually do and I can see clearly the road ahead and where I want to go… And then there are other days where I am so hopelessly consumed by the grief of it all, so enveloped in the lack of answers and of closure, and it keeps me pinned, looking back to a place and a time that no longer exists in the way I wish it did.

    I did lose someone, a life together, and something I held dear (don’t we all hold love dear), but I do acknowledge that it isn’t quite the same as losing someone to the end of life, as you did with Andy. I don’t know that my own experience and realizations will be of any help, but that being said, for me, currently in an endless state of putting on a brave face for everyone looking at me and all the while completely broken inside, (a completely exhausting feat because you simply allow yourself ZERO time to heal for fear of “letting the cracks show”) – it has been a long time coming in realizing that I never in fact acknowledged that I had (have!) been broken by this loss. I sort of did what you did in the car – just started back, in the general direction and simply hoped I’d get there, and that’s what I’ve been doing for the last year.

    And I’ve come to a place now where, having fully acknowledged that I am not as “okay” as I would like to believe and have others believe (much to the bruising of my ego!), but also realizing that I am not easily stirred to share such personal, internal movements with much anyone – I’ve just come to a place where I have sort of just stopped on this walk in the “general direction”, and am just completely open to accepting that I have to carve out just who it is exactly that I am now, in this moment – because I am neither the person I was back with that person and our life together… but I am also not who I was before them, either – and so my journey of trying to find the me that existed before then is simply futile, because THAT me no longer exists either, and never will again.

    And so now I am committed to taking all the good that DID come of that situation, the love, and the lessons – honoring it and the me I was then in that way – and embracing the fluidity of life, specifically the fluidity of who I am – and simply accepting that in order to evolve into who I want to be and the life I want to live, I have to first evolve into who I am RIGHT NOW and the life I have RIGHT NOW… and in the meantime, set the GPS of life with all of my goals, loves, and aspirations, and simply begin walking, crawling or running in THAT direction – embracing the fearless hope required that hard work, and a genuinely committed love for life will lead me there… wherever it may end up being.

    All the love right back to you Vashti (and excited for you and MMQ’s future!) For what it’s worth, this blog and the wisdom gained from your sharing it has made all the difference in helping to come to my own reckonings with this thing we all only know simply as – life. Gratitude.


    • Danny Tetzner

      Wow, same name, same story, same feelings, same reasons I’m following Vashti…

    • Sally T.

      I love that you embrace the idea that it’s okay to not be okay sometimes, instead of railing against it. There is a certain kind of clarity (freedom?) that surrender offers us and you’ve articulated this beautifully, Daniel.

    • Stephen

      So sorry for your loss. I can totally understand with what you are feeling.

  • Raluca

    The conversation above mirrors the tension between me and my mother. It had bothered me all my life, until I learned to look at it as a blessing – like that final “you are doomed to fail” before you start on your own little Bring-The-Ring-To-Mount-Doom quest, it just serves to empower and encourage you not to prove them wrong specifically, but to prove yourself that you ARE right and you ARE going to make it.

    Wonderful writing, Vashti.
    And Happy New Year, Andy, wherever you are!

  • Ed

    Wow my dear. Such love to you all. I have yet to endure a loss anywhere near yours, yet your words elicit a bruise. Such a man was A. He would be so glad that you guide with such force and paddle paddle paddle. X

  • Eva Hálková

    Hello Vashti, I´m sendidng you and your cubs lots and lots of positive energy and vibes.
    xx Eve.h

  • Si

    Hello Vashti, This is the first time i have posted or made a comment. I have got to agree with some of the other posts that over the last few weeks you have been missed. I have been reading your posts since 2012 and find you are an inspiration to me and i am sure many other people. I have not had to deal with loss like you have, and my family are now teenagers. However as my family grow older (more independant) i am feeling i am loosing my way (a GPS would be good) I am now trying to work out who i am what i want in life and how to live life for me!! So please keep on writing, inspiring and making the world a better place.
    Big hugs and lot of love to you

    • Sally T.

      I think you’ve just voiced what a LOT of mums (& probably dads) struggle with, Si, myself included. Thank you for speaking up with some very valuable insights. Huge change and the idea of letting go is never easy but there can be some amazing opportunity for personal growth. Good luck!

  • Tanja

    Dear Vashti,
    what for a beautiful post. I could “listen” to you for hours. You are such an inspiring woman!
    I just can say WOW!
    A big hug!

  • Nadine

    Great words :-) as always Vash. I think this time of the year is a roller coaster for most of humanity. While I try my best to always be positive about the things I have, the life I have created – I always sit back and compare it to those that don’t have it and while I always tend to contemplate whose fault that is, I mostly manage to sidetrack the thoughts and ask – does it matter? Does it matter what you or I think about someone else? Does it matter what they think of how we live ours? i think what matters is that we know , that what we do everyday was the best we could do for that day. And that’s enough.

    So, as you might know schools officially started for us in SA. Yesterday was the 1st day for my beautiful – baba – in grade one, as it was the first official school day for my son in high school Grade 8. While I was there, I noticed how many of the moms and dads moved out the school yard, teary eyed and emotional. I couldn’t help to wonder what was wrong with me?

    I didn’t feel emotional at all. All I felt was this abundance of excitement for both of them. While I’m not wishing away their lives, I am excited about the road ahead, especially since this was a new start for both of them. In between every word I speak to them I have managed to encourage and repeat your wise words – words of wisdom.Words I aspire to.
    – Live in the moment.
    – Enjoy every second that goes past.
    – Try everything ( legal) at least once.
    Know that, what you experienced today might never happen again.

    Be here now.

    As always. Loads of sunshine for you and your cubs. Remain the lioness you are, it’s what inspires me to live my life the best I can.


    • Stephen

      Just beautiful words

      • Nadine

        Thanks Stephen.

        • Stephen

          You’re welcome Nadine

  • Corinne

    Hi Vashti,
    Think it must be difficult seeing the in -laws after your loss but hopefully, the memories you forge with them now will in time make things easier for all concerned.
    As for the precise planning, its far more satisfying to enjoy the small processes that make up our journey and not get too caught up in the Big picture. Gaps occur between where you are and where you think you ought, or want to be and that’s when your thoughts run riot.
    I guess it’s Being truly present that is the most important thing. Senses open, breathing in the incredible world around us. Mindfulness is key.
    much love, great to have you back and awaiting your next post with anticipation
    Corinne xxxx

  • Topia

    I think it’s so easy to get stuck in the negative feelings around oneself when you are trying to do something different, take a different path or just making something different of yourself. It always feels like you might fail. What gets me to carry on, to live my one precious life is reading beautiful, positive encouraging words like these that show me that others are doing it, I can do it too. I can live my life to the best of my ability and by keeping myself surrounded by such positive and encouraging words, I am reminded routinely to live in the present and live, love to the fullest capacity. It doesn’t come naturally to me but with enough reminders, I know it will. Thanks for keeping me on the track.

  • Alise

    Hej! I have been thinking for a while whether to write something or not, but this post finally gave me the courage to say, that despite the fact that I am a stranger to You, I would want you to know, that I wish all the best for You and Your cubs (I just love that you call them that), and that I think about You from time to time and send my best wishes through the universal consciousness hoping that it gives You some small addition to the strength that You posses. I enjoy reading Your posts as they make me laugh, weep and inspire me to be fearless (or at least try to be). I admire You for Your strength and Your words.

  • Teresa

    I literally FELT those words Vashti, so strong, so brave and so sad… We wish you nothing but the ability to keep going in the direction you are heading. While trying to stay positive and heal yourself, and guide those beautiful cubs in a healthy direction, your also helping so many others by sharing your journey to do this. Even when you yourself hit bumps in the road, you share still the most painful parts of it. We are all here for you to Vashti…❤️❤️❤️❤️Much love from Az to you and your cubs..

  • gisele

    Querida Vashti:
    Es encantador poder leer tus pensamientos y sentimientos,siempre derramo una lágrima porque me emocionan mucho tus palabras,pienso que eres una persona muy sabia y con mucha vida y amor por recibir y por dar. Te aprecio mucho y deseo la mayor felicidad para ti y tus bellos cachorros.Gracias por compartir tus fotos y es una manera de sentirme cerca de ti.Un abrazo enorme!Gisele.

  • WLV

    Love, living in the moment, good days bad days, coping with loss. Life’s silly little gambles of ups and downs, that roller coaster ride I did not purchase a ticket for. I am fortunate enough and very grateful to have all my loved ones with me. I have only been receiving your notifications for about 2 months. Each time I read them you always bring me to tears. I have lost less than you and yet I have less strength moving through life. I wish you and your cubs all the strength and best wishes for happy days and hope that signs from Andy are shown to you often. xo

    • Dee

      Dear Vashti,
      You are well on your way to what great things life has in store for you. God has you. Recognizing that there are times that you just have to cope is to me one of the most liberating things about getting through difficult things. I am sending you and your loved ones many prayers. For me, whenever I have given in to that pain when it surfaces, it seems to loose it’s power over me.

  • Mai Parks

    Hi Vashti , I avidly read your newsletter and blog. I have this ‘need’ almost to know how others deal with tragic losses . Mostly in order to compare how I myself am coping. Up until late autumn , my way has been to try and build a brick wall as protection.
    Until your blogs and worksheet , I didn’t realise how limiting it all was. A brick wall would help protect my fragile feelings , but inside it , there was no room to grow.
    I thank you for your insight , for showing me that I had the seedling of a new way to actually “live”.
    Thank. You mama Lioness and much love to you and your cubs. X x

  • Sally T.

    In one of my many tongue-tripping moments with my kids, I referred to ‘coping’ as ‘groping’ and it stuck. When I think of how I move through life, I’m an efficient groper, but not a very good coper. I’m always reaching, reading, searching and listening to and for messages and pathways so I can keep moving forward. I get stalled sometimes, but who doesn’t?

    In my head, grief is similar to the autism spectrum (just working with what I know here): the circle of experience is different for all but the hallmarks remain essentially the same. So I understand what you mean when you describe how difficult it is to navigate your own feelings in the face of what Andy’s dad is revealing about his.

    I have never been able to attend support groups for parents of autistic kids. I feel so much compassion for these parents because I know, intimately, the challenges they have. But I have my own way of groping through my life with R. and to be bombarded with the constant bullet points of others’ daily struggles didn’t seem to add much to our family’s tapestry. Consequently, I don’t have close friends whose kids are autistic, but I relate to people who ARE on the spectrum. Because they’re not caught up in the ‘how.’

    Vashti, the way you share your life with your whole heart is helping a lot of people wake up and get out there, myself included. You WILL get there.

  • Christina

    I can totally relate. After my Step-Father died from cancer, even years afterward I noticed that my Mother couldn’t hear anything negative. It didn’t matter if it was a valid different point of view, or people just venting about minor and major issues in life unrelated to her, she just couldn’t handle it and would disconnect. It seemed to disrupt her “flow” and stop her dead in her tracks. It was simply Inertia. When she was at rest, she needed to stay at rest, and when she was in motion, she ABSOLUTLY needed to stay in motion. It was difficult to watch and challenging because while we’re grown, we never had to filter ourselves with her before. She was always everyone’s go to person to talk to and that changed. Respectfully, we learned her cues and to follow her lead to tread lightly, talk like we use to and/or just silently let her go her own way and move on. It’s been almost 12 yrs. since Charlie passed, and while it was extremely difficult to navigate at first and still presents it’s challenges, my Mom is now happier more often that not, and that’s all that matters to us. Much love and respect to you Vashti :)

  • ekelks

    Dear Vashti, The older I get the more I lose. That’s probably in an awful, ironic way, the way life is meant to be. I count my life out in the deaths of people I love. I find it very hard to write about them. Even now, just writing about not writing, my hand shakes & misspellings will lead to erasures, all kinds of stupid technical obstacles interfere, so I just look at something that takes me away from the nervousness — I’m sure there’s a school of philosophy or science with a name for all that –. But I just breathe, and look toward something else, not to forget, but to stay sane. You, with your beautiful children, have the best way I can imagine to look away from the awful pit of grief. Thank you so much for giving me a chance to write this a little bit. I hope it helps you the way I think it maybe helped me. xo Arlene

  • Miya

    You know Vashti, a thing that is wonderful with you is the way,with words, you touch poeple and, strangely, on the right time.
    I had a planning for my life: cubs at 25 years old, a sweet partner, a job, a home, my whole family. And, at 29 this year, i’m still living with my dad, student and half time job, no partner, no cubs, a deep and big lost that’s hurting me more these last times (certainly due to Xmas and her bday to come). So far away from what i wanted, wished. And all the bad feelings who came haunt me.
    Even though i still need some reminders, i just remind how i don’t have to compare to anothers, how i can still build, create MY own path and how i WILL. It’s still not natural thoughts but it will be.
    At the end of the year, i didnt take care of myself, like the need to comfort myself with foods, to heal the scars, to find a way to deal with the grief. Not the best way, not what i wanted to do but like you say it so well,i have to accept too to not be always okay,to feel down ans not always control myself.
    Like you, i will follow my path.

    An Happy new year to you, the cubs and the whole family.

    Love xxx

  • Alan Castro

    Hello Vashti, I can’t imagine what it must feel like for you to be without Andy. I never knew him personally but I have seen the Spartacus series many times and have seen many interviews with him. And I find myself thinking about him everyday and his message to live in the now. He is a great inspiration for me and continues to be. I also keep asking myself why this incredible talent, father, and husband was taken away from us so early. I also find myself feeling angry at what happened to him and ask myself why this happened. What was the reason. Hopefully it will all make sense in the grand plan that is life. But I truly admire your strength. I wish you and your family all the best. I can’t wait to see the documentary. It is the most important film I am waiting to see.

  • millie

    Vashti, you and Andy have definitely changed my way of facing life. Truly inspiring people, you and your beautiful family.
    Muchos besos from Argentina

  • Magdalena

    Hello Vashti! You are my inspiration,you have a wonderful approach to life.

    Greetings from Poland !

  • Cat

    Hello there Vashti,
    First post here but after reading your above message I had to reply. My experience was not of losing a beautiful husband but of a ‘surrogate brother’ to me and my buddies. We lost him just before the summer, and for us it did bring out this raw fuel that delicately pried ourselves ever so slowly from that unrelenting numbing cloud that was almost unbearable to endure. We thought we were heading into that comfort zone of ‘hey we’re going to be okayish’ as the months carried on. But what is okay? His loss challenged us to become more communicative with our family and friends to constantly reassure them of how much we care for them. How much they are appreciated and dearly loved. That was something we have consistently been able to carry on with together. Now, when it came to our friend that we lost; it took nearly 6 months before one of us could mention his name. And in doing so while having a lunch together, his name was spoken merely above a fragile whisper. It was almost as if his name was spoken too loudly it would recognize, awaken and stir that buried grief to ripple up to the surface again and begin cutting deep into our bones with sadness. So I patiently watched and listened as each of my buddies began talking about him. And again, our conversation and voices were so low in tone you’d think small children were talking at a table. Cautiously we started quoting something he said one day. Something super funny. And as we brought up that memory I could see the physical pain harbored in their eyes. But all at once we started laughing. And we couldn’t stop. One of those near face plants into the dinner plate in front or you. Can’t breathe. Can’t open your eyes funny because it was so immensely hilarious. Then as if someone turned off a switch the happy emotion drained away in a split second and I stopped laughing. It scared me. Like if a train of shattered grief had plowed right into my chest. Just like the day of his tragic accident. I had realized my friend can’t laugh anymore. What is that? And last night I found his Funeral Service Acknowledgement while going through some old papers in a draw. And again I couldn’t stop that train as every last memory of saying goodbye in those last moments flooded in like a wave.
    I wish I could offer something more tangible to help with what you are going through than just a shared moment in my life. All I have come to realize is that we will have good days and bad days. And the bad ones will hurt. And it is okay to feel that way. Please remember that you have your cubs, part of his very soul lives and breathes in them. Hold on to that as hard as you can.

  • Vicki

    Good to see you back Vashti, your words touch how I feel. My kids are my life jackets when I fall off my raft of grief they save me.,,but day by day ……….small steps V

  • Susana Matos Nunes

    Talking about wrong turns, bumps, crashes… Just start 2014 with a very big twist on my life… We can never feel that we are safe, stable, firm… I was feeling good, happy, stable, I now have a little 5 mth boy completing my happiness and my life with joy, together with my hubbie and my amazing 5yrs daugther. Almost getting ready to get back to work, just enjoying a few more vacations days… But it seams there is no more work. There’s no place there for me anymore. Portugal is going through a financial crisis (as you may know) and I was crossing my fingers to pass by but… It knock on my door. What now? I really don’t know!… Maybe will never do the same job anymore, what leave very sad because I love it. On the other hand it migth be the chance to look for something else that I also like and the perspective of something entirely new is kind of exciting! But before that many bureaucracies are ahead and in a country where nothing left the optimism is almost null… Yestarday was imagin that I had plans for the summer vacacion, cause the last year my summer vacacion was in bed in risc of loosing by baby… Well, change of plans, big change! Affraid of not for better… What a way to begin this new year?
    My thoughts are with you every day! Wish I can have the right words for you! Grief is different to all… My first words to Andy’s family when he pass was a few to all, to his sister (from someone’s sister), to his parents, kids and to you. Maybe you never read it, or obviously don’t remember. I said that I believe you are the one who miss him most but in other hand no parent should knew the pain of loosing a son… When I realised they where going to spend some time with you my thoughts are always”huge momments in all ways, must be so great be together as hard”! Just wish you all positive thoughts and a road where all enjoy the ride, but the most important is that we all, wherever we are, whatever our “thing”, can enjoy life!
    Still here!
    Big kisses to all XXXXXXXXX
    From Portugal (for now)

  • Tina

    I wish Hello Vashti,
    you could hear once again I`m from Germany and i translate this from german
    when I call your name words, so maybe they are not the best I found.
    with a trembling voice
    I wish
    you could once more
    look into my eyes
    which are now filled with tears

    Sometimes I wish also
    I could follow you simply
    and would the pain
    not withstand

    Once the call is also applicable to me
    and then I’ll be where you are
    embrace of love
    and without sadness

    by Ruth Rau

  • Sonia Mitchell

    Hi, so nice to read your story, I too lost my dad when l was four & my brother 3. My brother stopped talking & never let go of my mothers leg. My brother & I lost our mum a few years ago, however she has returned to my dad after waiting 33 years to be reunited in the afterlife together. My brother & l are best friends, we talk every day sometimes more than once on the phone. We told our mum to go when she was dying to go to dad, have the time of your life, be with each other again. We whispered in her ear that we will be ok as we have each other. Brother & Sister love. She taught us that & created our close bond, which will last forever.

  • Stephen

    Vashti, I just read this blog and I understand the ups and downs of grief. Still to this day, I feel the same way for my parents. I think it’s good to express yourself in writing or talking about what you are feeling to allow the grief to come out. Once it’s out, it helps to settle the grief feelings for a while. We are all deeply saddened that Andy is not here and with you and your cubs; as well as his parents. I wish there was a way to bring him back to your arms.

    Indigo and Jesse miss their daddy, and I can only imagine missing their daddy so young and so talented. Perhaps they are linking on to you because you are the closest thing to their daddy. you are their link to Andy.
    I hope that the holidays, long school break, and visits from many family members, have distracted you from the feelings of grief. They can be a blessing and a curse, as it may not allow you to have those feelings of grief.

    Your blogs, writings, and spreecasts are inspirational to me. And I miss seeing you on spreecast.
    Hugs always to you, Jesse, and Indigo

  • susan mangan

    Beautiful piece vashti. Great to have u back. U remind me of a duck on water, calm and serene on de surface but underneath ur paddling furiously. Glad to hear ur still afloat xx

  • Jennifer Barron

    Wow. Tears have not stopped flowing from my eyes

  • Mandy

    I get your email every time and must admit I skim through it, sometimes I dont even bother to read it. Its not because I dont like it,its because your story is so much like mine and I try so hard to keep so busy and pretend that my life is normal. But its not and like you I lost my husband 2 1/2 years ago to cancer. My kids were 8, 13 & 15. It is to hard to stop and think about so we become super mums and do anything to not have to face it. Time doesn’t heal and it doesn’t get easier but this year I have chosen to make it my year. So I have just sat and read your blog, I loved it, I loved that someone else understands and I found it comforting. Thank you and I look forward to reading your next blog Xxxx

  • Valli

    I don’t really know what to say other than you are such a beautiful person. I have read you letter, etc. for sometime now and have connected with you in a way that is positive and very emotional. I thank you for your words.

  • crystyn

    Hola vasthi tus reflexiones son muy hermosas y conmovedoras para mi me gustaria mandarte mi historia para que vieras si la vida todavia nos da segundas oporunidades los cachorros estan creciendo y tengo dos como tu te deseo muchas bendiciones para ti y toda tu familia una gran amiga desde Argentina .Ushuaia

  • Trish

    I wrote this thinking about myself but in a way I find it applies to you as a mother and to what Andy left behind.
    “Whatever my troubles may be, my worries and woes, my children are my legacy and through them the best parts of me shine.”

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