My Lil Lisa has Left the Building, Mothers day, 2026

For my lil Lisa

I loved you

I love you still

And I am fucking gutted

xx

I had another chat with God today

and fair warning

I was not polite

Dear God,

It’s me again.

And before you say it, yes, I know, it has been a while.

But I am not here for small talk today.

I am not here for hymns or candles or folded hands.

I am here because my lil Lisa is gone

and I want to know why.

Why her?

Why now?

Why after everything she already carried?

Why take a girl whose heart was already bruised from the beginning?

Whose mum left when she was little.

Whose mum left this world too soon.

Whose dad Dave had to raise her with all the love he had in his bones.

Whose heart cracked when he died

and never really sealed back over properly.

Why would you let her fight demons her whole life

then call her home when she still had two boys here?

Two boys, God.

Her babies.

And don’t you come at me with clouds and harps and bullshit today.

I am not in the mood.

I want a please explain.

Kindest regards,

although I am stretching it,

Tee

Dear Tee,

Oh my dear fiery girl,

I knew you would come storming in.

I heard you before you even knocked.

The gates rattled.

The angels hid the good china.

Someone said, “Here she comes,”

and Dave stood up straight away.

He knew.

He said, “Is that Tee?”

I said, “Yes, David. And she is not happy.”

He said, “No, she wouldn’t be. She loved my girl.”

And he was right.

Tee, I know you are angry.

I know this one has cut you deep.

Lisa was not just a name on your Facebook.

She was not just a memory.

She was your lil Lisa.

The girl with the hurt behind her eyes

and the laugh that still tried to come out anyway.

The girl who kept going longer than many people ever saw.

You ask me why she is gone now.

And I will not insult you by pretending grief makes sense.

Love,

God

Dear God,

Well that’s not good enough.

You made oceans and planets and weird little beetles

and magpies that swoop innocent people for no reason,

so surely you could have worked out how to leave Lisa here a bit longer.

You left her boys without their mum on Mothers Day for fucks sake!

You left the people who loved her standing around with their hands empty.

You left me sitting here remembering Kenny Rogers

and The Gambler

and all the bloody memories that now hurt too much to touch.

You know that was our song, don’t you?

“You got to know when to hold ’em…”

Well I held her in my heart, God.

I held her the best way I knew how.

And now what?

What do I do with this?

Do you want to take this outside?

Because I am telling you now,

I may be tired, half blind, and held together by caffeine and stubbornness,

but I will still have a crack.

Here, Lisa,

hold my McBeer.

Actually no.

You can’t.

And that is the problem.

Tee

Dear Tee,

I know the song.

And yes, I know it was yours.

And when Lisa arrived, weary and heart-sore,

that song was already playing softly.

Not loudly.

Not like a pub jukebox after someone has had too many.

Softly.

Like a memory walking down a hallway.

Dave heard it first.

He turned around, and I wish you could have seen his face.

No cancer.

No pain.

No tired body.

No sorrow hanging off him like wet clothes.

Just Dave.

He said, “That’s my girl.”

And Lisa saw him.

Tee, she saw him.

All the years she missed him,

all the nights she wanted one more conversation,

all the times she wished she could hear his voice,

all of it rushed out of her at once.

And he took her in his arms.

Not carefully, like she might break.

Properly.

Like a dad who had been waiting.

Like a dad who had never stopped watching.

Like a dad who knew his girl had been fighting a war most people could not see.

And he said,

“You’re alright now, Lis. Dad’s got you.”

Love,

God

Dear God,

Well now you’ve gone and made me cry harder,

which is bloody rude.

But I am still angry.

Because she should have had peace here.

She should have had years where the demons shut their mouths.

She should have had mornings where the sun came in and she felt light.

She should have watched her boys grow and grow and grow.

She should have grown old enough to annoy everyone properly.

She should have had more time.

And don’t give me that “everything happens for a reason” rubbish,

because I will throw something.

Tee

Dear Tee,

I would never say that to you.

Some things do not happen for a reason that human hearts can bear.

Some things are not lessons.

Some things are not neat.

Some losses are just terrible.

But I will tell you this.

Lisa was not her ending.

She was the little girl who kept breathing after abandonment.

She was the daughter who loved her dad with a loyalty so fierce

that even death could not loosen it.

She was the mother of two boys whose lives will carry pieces of her

in ways they may not understand until they are older.

They will hear her in a song.

They will see her in a look.

They will feel her when life gets hard

and something in them says,

“Keep going, mate. You come from survivors.”

And yes, Tee, they will need love around them.

They will need stories.

Not polished ones.

Real ones.

Tell them she loved them.

Tell them she fought hard.

Tell them she was funny and broken and beautiful and human.

Tell them she belonged to people who will not let her name vanish.

Love,

God

Dear God,

So where is she now?

And don’t you dare say “in a better place”

like someone writing on a sympathy card because they don’t know what else to say.

Where is my lil Lisa?

Tee

Dear Tee,

She is with Dave.

She is with the mother wound finally quiet.

She is with the child inside her who never stopped asking why she was left.

She is with every part of herself that got tired from pretending she was okay.

She is not pacing, not masking.

She is not fighting shadows.

She is not waiting for bad news.

She is not carrying the old ache in her chest.

And Dave, being Dave, has already started fussing.

He wanted to know if she had eaten.

He wanted to know if she was warm enough and if she needed some socks.

He asked me whether there was somewhere he could take her for a drive.

I told him this is heaven, David, not a Ford dealership.

He ignored me.

There is now a Ford parked near the eastern paddock

and I am fairly sure no one filled out the correct paperwork.

Lisa laughed.

A proper laugh, Tee.

The kind you remember.

Love,

God

Dear God,

Did she know I loved her?

Did she know she was my lil Lisa?

Did she know I would be sitting here gutted,

talking to you like an angry woman at the pub

who has just found out someone stole her raffle ticket?

Did she know?

Tee

Dear Tee,

Yes.

Love does not vanish because a person is tired.

Love does not fail because someone could not stay.

Love does not end at the hospital door, the bedroom door,

the last breath, the last message,

or the terrible phone call no one wants.

She knew.

And she knows.

She knows you loved her in that fierce, loyal, no-bullshit way of yours.

She knows you hurt for her.

She knows you are angry because love has nowhere to put its hands right now.

That is grief, Tee.

Love with its work boots on,

standing in the mud,

not knowing what job to do next.

Love,

God

Dear God,

And what about The Gambler?

Because I cannot hear it now without falling apart.

Tee

Dear Tee,

For now, you may not be able to.

That is alright.

One day, maybe not soon,

maybe not for a long time,

you will hear it somewhere ordinary.

In a shop.

In a car.

On some scratchy old radio when you are not ready.

And it will hurt.

But underneath the hurt,

there will be her.

Not gone.

Not fully.

Just sitting beside the song.

And you will hear the line about knowing when to hold them,

and you will know this:

You held her.

Not enough to keep her here.

No human love can always do that.

But enough that she did not pass through this world unnoticed.

Enough that her name is written in your heart, in everyone's heart.

Enough that when you speak of her,

she lives again for a moment.

And when the song says knowing when to fold them,

do not think she gave up.

Think instead that her poor tired hands

finally put down cards no one else could see.

And Dave picked them up for her.

Love,

God

Dear God,

I still hate this.

Tee

Dear Tee,

I know.

Dear God,

I still want her back.

Tee

I know.

Dear God,

I don’t understand.

Tee

You are not meant to understand it today.

Today you only have to love her.

Cry for her.

Swear if you need to.

Tell stories.

Say her name.

Remember the song.

Remember the girl.

Remember the dad who came for her.

Remember her skating

Remember that death is loud for those left behind,

but quiet for the one who has finally been gathered.

And Tee?

Dear God,

What?

Tee

She is not alone.

Dave has her.

And when the cards were laid down,

when the table went quiet,

when the song started playing,

your lil Lisa was met with love.

Not judgement.

Not questions.

Not shame.

Love.

And Dave said,

“Come on, my girl. I’ve been waiting.”

Over and out,

Yahweh

aka God

aka the one currently trying to explain to Kenny Rogers

why there is a Ford parked beside the pearly gates.

I write this for Lisa. My lil Lisa. Thankyou Rinnie for being her rock.

Teens, mothers day May 2026