There is a quietness about her these days. She is so very tiny. I wonder how she stays so strong. We sit in the copse and speak of childhood days.....I hold her hand, I listen. She seems to need to tell me things. She asks about the garden.She tells me she is proud of me, how pretty I look....a mother always thinks her child is beautiful. There is no love, like a mothers love. We leave the copse. I feel peaceful.......Mum and I slowly walk the garden. I pop my pretty sun hat on her head.
She laughs and the cockney sparrow puts on her 'posh voice' and puts her nose in the air, as she tries to walk with some elegance. I smile.......my mother has always been able to laugh at herself. I love her for that.
We sit at the table with the rest of the family. Mother made some cakes, she makes wonderful cakes.
I gaze across the garden......my thoughts are far away. It is a wonderful journey we walk with our parents as they age. They have so much to tell, things perhaps, that we did not know. I am spending more time with them.......quality time. I awake each morning in gratitude for the blessings of another day, for each is a precious gift and a priceless opportunity to live, to laugh and to love.