The Same Date, Twice
The night I almost didn’t wake up, and the day, eleven years later, I finally told everyone. Same date, twice.
The night I almost didn’t wake up, and the day, eleven years later, I finally told everyone. Same date, twice.
Four days of brushing off a cough ended with an ambulance. This summer, I made the call the same day. Same instinct, different response.
A quiet Saturday ride, a loch, and an engine cut to silence. Twelve years on, this is where my own mortality finds me now.
There’s a tree I love planting more than any other — the kind that outlives the man who put it in the ground. This is the story of why I started building something with that same purpose in mind.