Today would have been my Mother’s 88th birthday. What does one do on these strange anniversaries, when Mum has gone and the grief has faded? Three years since I sent a birthday card and made the trip westwards to spend a weekend. I’ve written the date in case notes several times today, without sadness, pausing to wonder ‘well, what do I feel?’ I have bought daffodils and put them in her vase. Yes, that made me cry a little, but not too much. Time has passed.
After my little bit of weeping I remembered this photograph that Albert took of my Mother, when she was maybe 8 or 9. How perfect a gift it is for today; in London we have sunshine in a peerless blue sky, blossom trees punctuate the streets with white and pale pink. Spring is here.
Thank you Albert, for showing me Mum, with everything before her. She had a good life. She was the best mum. Happy Birthday.
The Letters 
May her gentle soul find peace where it is!
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This brought tears to my eyes this morning, Louise. How wonderful to be remembered with blossoms & such love.
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Thank you Gill, I’m so glad you are still reading x
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I know just what you mean. I always tell my children that it has been their grandma or grandpa’s birthday but they didn’t meet either of them, so we can’t share memories. I do find myself still thinking about them all day, even after so many years. My grandma’s birthday was March 29th and I always remember it even though she was born 151 years ago!
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Those we loved live on in our hearts don’t they? Time doesn’t matter x
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I can look at the picture now, I struggled last week to. It is such a lovely photo, she didn’t really change did she! (I wonder what she was looking at) x
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