Recovery 2.0

Today I turn 39. Is that not a dumb age? To celebrate my Year of Turning Forty, I will be doing something on Edenland on the 11th of each month. Bucket list-y things .... like getting my hair cut short, or climbing the Harbour Bridge. Or something incredibly meaningful. Or incredibly ridiculous.

Or, posting a video regarding the herd of elephants that have been stampeding and shitting in my living room for a while now.



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I'm back here, now. If I don't start writing here again soon I'll lose my voice.

And it took me so long to get it. (39 years.)

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Meet Henry ... a beautiful, strong, dark-haired boy. He died from a drug overdose last year, and his mother is in the exhausting process of writing out information and the events leading up to his tagic death. Something isn't quite right about the investigation. Please tweet #justiceforhenry

The following is an excerpt from Mama Pundit:

"That evening, I fixed my son the last meal I would ever prepare for him – a stir fry with curry. He and his girlfriend and his 12 year old brother E and I ate together on our front porch. Everyone was in good spirits, and after they ate, E and Henry got out their ripsticks and played on them on our front walkway. Henry’s girlfriend and I watched on the porch. It was a beautiful early spring evening."

Ripsticks. It's such a trivial piece of information but I have been thinking of Henry on his ripstick all week.

Such a waste and a shame and a tragedy. I deeply feel for his mother right now, trying to drum up some media interest in gaping holes in the story. Bless you, Henry. I hope you can feel how free you are.