It was my father’s birthday yesterday. He would have been 73. He died three years ago this November and it really doesn’t get any easier to cope with.
We all miss him hugely and still feel the need to get together to “celebrate” and share our memories.
So. Here I am with my mother.
I’ve left two of my children home alone in London which is always a major disaster just waiting to happen and therefore is massively stressful and driven four hours to see her. Still, until I get back to see whether my house is still standing tomorrow, I’m glad I made it in time to celebrate his birthday. We had a lovely meal at the local pub just catching up and I’m glad we spent it together.
Now off to see my NEARLY ONE HUNDRED YEAR OLD Grandmother….she only has to hang on in there for a few more months to get a card from the Queen.
Who is going to send the Queen a telegram when she reaches 100? Does she just congratulate herself?
Here is a photo that I love of my father – taken in Hong Kong twenty years ago – with my firstborn on his shoulders:-