I’m lucky enough to have a husband who is also creative. They has written numerous scripts, poems and short stories I’ve had the privilege of reading. AND INSIDE SCOOP ONLY TOLD HERE, there are two projects we are working on where we are co-writing together and self-publishing together. They’re big projects but it’s been a blast doing it together. Keep an eye on this space for more details. I’m very happy to share another guest blog written by Joel with more to come. Get your tissues and stress balls ready. This is a true story at the beginning of our relationship where we were at their grandmother’s funeral/wake. I watched in horror as this took place with only quiet whispers and hugs to my husband.

“I Never Should Have Gone to My Grandmother’s Funeral”

I ran my finger along the crack of the mirror before
I yelled at my husband that morning.
I couldn’t tie my tie,
I couldn’t get it right.
I sat up front, my husband couldn’t join, so
I refused when extended family tried to move me.
I was expected to read a bible verse.
I don’t remember reciting King James, but
I do remember the tears kept flowing.
I knew I’d get looks from the church friends
“I won’t judge”, they’d say.
I knew better.
I made food at the wake, people demanding
“I want it now”.
I got complaints the sausage rolls were undercooked.
I listened to a cousin detail her Fiji trip.
I scoffed at the Salvation Army officer defending White Australia Policy
“I know they did it for the best”.
I wanted to leave, because
I missed my grandmother

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