Mothering Sunday

For quite some months I’ve thought I should pop in to visit Mum but have driven on by.  I’ve felt guilty that I’ve not given her a bit of a spruce up and polish.

When my friend announced on Saturday night, that instead of his usual train route, he would need to get a train to Mum’s village and be collected by his golf partner, I could see no reason for my not visiting Mum (and offering him a lift down to his golf match).

AND it was Mothering Sunday, so perhaps even more fitting.

I hastily packed a bag with a trowel, secateurs, kitchen roll, cleaning wipes, a dustbin bag and baby oil – hehe Mum would find it highly amusing that this collection of items was what was required to give her a scrub up!

When I arrived I realised just how long it’s been since I visited.  Her memorial stone almost hidden under newly grown turf.

IMG_4853

I did feel guilty but then again it’s not where Mum is now.  She’s dead.  Her memory lives on but her physical body is gone.  I don’t need to visit a stone to remember her.  However lovely it is to be there and tending her stone.

IMG_4857Happy Mothering Sunday Mum x

 

 

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