1926 ~ 2002
It’s the tenth anniversary of my Mother’s passing today, in some respects it seems not that long ago and in others it seems far longer.
For many years my Mother worked at the Village shop, as both Post Office Assistant and shop counter, seeing the comings and goings, families grow and move on, selling gallons of truly home made ice cream of a sunny Sunday, being a center of useless information for the boating tourists that stopped in the shop. Before working here we had owned and operated the village petrol station and garage, in fact that was where I was born, so she had been at the hub of the village for decades.
It’s a strange feeling day, she is on my mind but I am not altogether sure what I feel. Whether I expected to feel saddened, I don’t know. I suppose I have been reminiscing more than remembering but it is the details that I cannot remember, the sound of her voice, a mannerism, I remember she had two sugars and milk in both tea or coffee, and a thin carving of proper butter on charcoal riden toast, but how she spoke and what about, are quite blank; unusual for me as I am a details person.
I have found myself wondering what she would make of things today, how her grandson has grown and the type of man, husband and father he has become.