That Day Again.

Here we are again, that day in which mum lurks in my mind and pops out when I have time to reflect. Earlier I looked back on previous posts marking her birthday. On each occasion I marvelled at how fast time has gone by. Today she would have been 84.

When she was alive I never realised how significant it was when she would tell me the days that would have been my grandparents' birthdays. Nor indeed the anniversaries of their deaths. We only learn that through experience. They say nothing can prepare one for the loss of a parent. "They" are right. My friends James and Georgina are learning that now in the wake of Sue's death.

It is very hard to look back on mum's life and not feel sad at how unhappy she was. Not just in the latter years when her mental state deteriorated but before as well. She never seemed to settle but when things calmed down she had an amazing ability to marvel at the simple beauty that lies in the nature around us. Her garden, her love of birds, and that love of the sea which claimed her in the end.

That beauty outlasts us all but we can glimpse. My travels yesterday took me back to the lake near my old office. Tinged with ice on a cold sunny winter morning nature looked peaceful. There was no sign of the heron but in those short moments in what has been a torrid few months for me I saw that beauty. It was a beauty I learned from mum.

So on this day where ever she may be Happy Birthday to mum.

I Heard a Voice.