n recent weeks, gaps have started to appear in my life, moments when I remember what it is to breathe and travel through life without small hands clutching at my sleeves. The same thing happened about 18 months ago, when I noticed my world opening up, and started to lift my eyes above the rooftops. But then the gates slammed shut again as the caring responsibilities ramped up once more, and opportunities for respite evaporated like fields of mist under the Northumbrian sun.
