EVERY WEEK, WE bring you a round-up of the best longreads of the past seven days in Sitdown Sunday.
And now, every weeknight, we bring you an evening longread to enjoy which will help you to escape the news cycle.
We’ll be keeping an eye on new longreads and digging back into the archives for some classics.
A little shorter than our usual longreads, this is nonetheless a very moving piece. Journalist Jude Rodgers lost her father when she was just five. Here, she writes about how she turned the dreaded anniversary of his death into a day celebrating his life.
(The Guardian, approx 5 mins reading time)
Until recent years, one particular date would loom ahead of me bleakly every New Year. My father died on 11 January 1984, during a hip replacement operation to ease his ankylosing spondylitis, a condition that inflamed his spine and joints. He was 33, my mother 32; I was five, my brother one. I remember seeing him for the last time at the front door of our house; the last question he asked me was to find out what was number one in the pop charts (our mutual love fed my early obsession with music and eventual career as a music journalist).
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