many things to write and then I forget.
In a quiet moment this morning I had the very strong feeling of my mother’s presence. I had to use my fingers to count up how many years it has been since I had a Mum. I ran out of fingers before I discovered it was...
forty eight years. And you know something, I still miss her.
Why you might wonder, today of all days? I will tell you...
Twelfth Night. She was a little superstitious crossed with a light sprinkle of religious. Twelfth night was the night for the decorations to come down, no other. Over the years I have honoured her by putting my own spin on it by gradually squirrelling things away leaving the tiny nativity scene until Mum’s Night.
In the quiet of the house this morning, she was here, I felt her very strongly. I sat and spoke to her, not words, thoughts. It gave me much comfort after a strange
year here by the sea.
My lovely Mum