I miss the daily nonsense telephone calls from my Mum, which strangely sometimes irritated when I was busy or just rushing out the door. Now I long for those back!
Oh and someone who hugs me back!
Annette
I miss the telephone calls too. 500 miles apart but I know her number so well. I miss unpacking my shopping and giving her a blow by blow account of my purchases on a Saturday afternoon. I miss telling her about my day, sharing ups and downs. I miss our discussions about politics and her wisdom. I miss being able to call her when I need advice, jam making, brain surgery, but sadly dementia was not one we found a cure for. Mum has cures for everything else.
But what I love is the way it has made feel about other people, value every minute, well, not quite every minute. I love my bare faced bravery in liberating here berets and small precious things on my most recent to Scotland. Actually not so small. I liberated and purloined things of value to mum and her friends to be shared out. Photographs of my dad, a few cardies, leggings (I kid you not - very stylish but recently selected by an 88 year old). I even borrowed