Photo by Daniel De Ciantis on Unsplash

The tests have come back as cancer.

These words traversed the telephone lines from my mother in Melbourne, Australia, through to me in Washington Heights, New York City.

I’m coming home Mum.

No. Don’t. I’ll be ok. They say they have new treatments.

I’ll be there Mum. I’m booking the flight today.

Pancreatic cancer. My 72-year-old mother had always been strong and healthy. The cancer had already spread. There would be few treatment options. My Mother continued, teary,

I don’t want to inconvenience you love, you have your career.

I took a deep breath. I was troubled that my mother…


Photo by A L L E F . V I N I C I U S Δ on Unsplash

I remember clearly the night we first met. It was a drizzly Sunday November evening, but quite mild for Melbourne. The year was 2001 and I was staying with my brother George following the recent death of our mother. On the night we met George had suggested we go out to cheer ourselves up. I wasn’t really in the mood for an over forties singles night, but I agreed it would be good to get out.

We went to a club on the other side of town. It was a large venue, and for a small fee you could enjoy…

Gloria Jean O'Connor

Some people come into our lives, leave footprints, and we are never the same. Memoir, Non- Fiction, Essay. Member Gold Coast Writers Club.

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