Thursday 17 March 2011
Happy St Patrick's Day Mum
The morning started as ever with a walk with Trix. She has a poorly leg so it was a slow walk and stop to sniff. And what a pleasure it was to do so. The cacophony of bird song playing out in the grey mist of morning was an absolute joy.
And now the mist is burning off and the sun is trying to break through. A good moment to remember my beloved Mum on St Patrick's Day. She was from County Tyrone in Norther Ireland. She came over to England to nurse in 1947 when she was 18.
She met and married my dad when they were both 25. They stayed happily together until her untimely death at 57 from cancer. And I miss her.
I miss her warmth and care
I miss her generosity of spirit
I miss her daft Irishness
I miss her tomato sandwiches on the rare nights Dad was out
I miss a future I couldn't have had with her of coffee and shopping together
I miss the same future where she didn't know one of my sons.
I need to get to the 1st of October and then I'll be one day older than she was when she died
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11 comments:
Dear Fire Byrd~
Sounds like your Mom is with you in your heart~ Hold fast to what you had and she will always be a part of who you have become♥
Love to you~
Mandy,
My mom also passed one week after her 58th birthday. That was 13 years ago and not a day goes by where I don't speak her name or miss her and the time we used to share. She was half Irish and loved St Paddy's day. So raise your glass and we'll toast our sweet moms together!
She is within you. Love from my heart to yours
Hope Trix's leg heals quickly, Mandy. It's nice when they slow their usual pace, isn't it? You get to take things in.
I'm sorry for the loss of your Mom. She's alive in your heart and that's beautiful.
You have special memories of your Mum.
Hold them close x
May your Irish heart always be full and memories of your Mum make you smile.
Waving a 4-leaf clover at ya!
A lovely tribute to your Mum. I am sure she is always at your shoulder, mine is.
A lovely, tender post.
It unnerves me, just occasionally, to think that I'm already more than 2/3 the age that my dad was when he died.
Your walk sounds perfect; a wonderful time of the year for you.
I am sorry that your mother is no longer with you; she sounds like a beautiful woman.
A lovely tribute to your Mum.
((((( the byrdie )))))))
It's hard.
But here's to the joys we hold on to dearly.
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