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21 Mother’s Days

I do not especially like the idea that one day I shall be tapped on the shoulder and informed, not that the party is over but that it is most assuredly going on—only henceforth in my absence.

Christopher Hitchens, Hitch-22

Today is the 21st Mother’s Day since Mum died.

She would have been 95 years old on her birthday in August this year.

As I’ve written elsewhere, she was a mother’s mother. Karen and I were talking today about that and something I wrote in that post about Nicholas, 2 years old at the time in 2002, playing in the front yard, running around a bit too close to the footpath and road:

Mum, having only just recovered from a major lower leg fracture, did her best to run after him, even before anyone else reacted. No thought for herself.

It’s also Dad’s birthday today. He was 89 when he died in 2020 and would have been 92 today.

They left the party too soon.

Time passes. The rest of us go on.

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