The Heart of This Story

Birsay wasn’t “just a dog.” He was my shadow, my constant, and my safe place in the world. Born September 2013, he came into my life at a time when I needed grounding more than I realised. For seven years he was always there — through grief, illness, upheaval, and the quiet, ordinary days in between. When I became my mum’s full-time carer, Birsay was beside me every step of the way. He walked with me, sat with me, and reminded me to keep going when everything felt too heavy. In 2015, Birsay and I moved to Orkney so I could care for my mum as her health deteriorated. Life slowed down there. Much of my time was spent sitting quietly while Mum slept, and when I wasn’t out walking Birsay, I was reading. Books became both escape and lifeline — a way to exist somewhere else while still being present where I was needed.

I was reading so much that I began to lose track of what I’d finished, and in September 2016, MoMoBookDiary was born. It started simply — a way to record the books I was consuming at a pace I’d never known before — but it quickly became something more. A place to hold onto stories when real life felt fragile.

After Mum passed away in December 2016, the world already felt unfamiliar. Then, in May 2018, I was diagnosed with an inoperable thalamus brain tumour, and the future I had imagined disappeared completely. Through that fear, grief, and loss of direction, Birsay was still by my side — grounding me, steadying me, and helping me survive not only the loss of my mum, but the loss of myself.

Living with a brain tumour and ongoing mental health challenges, including ADHD (likely AuDHD), means I can’t work a “normal” job. My abilities are limited in ways that aren’t always visible, and over time I began to realise how much had been taken away. When Birsay passed away in November 2020, that understanding hit all at once. I was no longer a daughter. No longer a dog mum. And because of my health, I didn’t even have work to focus on. Everything that had once given my life shape and meaning was suddenly gone, and nothing made sense anymore.

Reading became my lifeline again. When the world felt empty and unrecognisable, books gave me somewhere safe to exist — a place where I could rest, breathe, and keep going when I wasn’t sure how. Even when I couldn’t see a way forward, stories remained..

With the life I imagined no longer available to me, I chose a different one — a quieter life, lived partly in the pages of books. Romance (where love is kinder and endings are softer), thrillers (experienced safely from the comfort of my armchair), and stories that let me rest inside someone else’s world for a while.

MoMoBookDiary exists because of all of this.

Because when I couldn’t do much else, I could still read.

And when I needed something to hold onto, stories were there.

This blog isn’t about productivity, perfection, or expertise. It’s about survival, comfort, and the quiet joy of turning another page.

Birsay is still part of this story — and always will be. This blog, like my heart, carries his memory.