Lucy Williamson lives near Cambridge with her teenagers. By her own admission she is an ordinary mother who came home from work on an ordinary Wednesday to find her perfectly extraordinary teenage son had died by suicide. She never thought she'd be that mother: not that mother; not that son. In this conversation we discuss the aftermath of the tragedy (totally unexpected; totally unexplained); the gravitational pull of grief alongside the surprising desire to lean forward into life. We discussed finding solace at the keyboard and her recent solo trip to Uzbekistan and the complexities of having both faith and doubt.