Saw a lovely photo today, of a friend and her sister when they were little. I remember them at that age, for I was as little as they were at the time.
Triggered some fond memories of their parents, in particular, their late mum. She is one of those parents who inspired me to listen to my inner voice. The one that says 'stop for a minute, stop what you're doing and cherish this moment with your young child because this time and moment, this innocent age, won't last forever'. Soon I'll be like my parents, watching my little one have her own family, a new generation, making her own scones and mistakes.
My eldest just turned 6 a couple of weeks ago. I gasped more when she turned 5 and started primary school. But this time, I accepted the upgrade without a flutter or a gush. Surprisingly. I leaned over the side of her bed, tucked her in and said 'Goodnight my little 5 year old' and she replied 'and I'm going to wake up 6!', thrilled with herself, content in blind knowledge. I love her naïve bones.
I recall my friend's mum being a sweet natured, creative soul. Humble and kind, from what I encountered while in their family's presence. I loved sitting with them for breakfast, following their daily routine in their beautiful, quirky home. And yet I'm reminded that she's sadly missed now. My friend and her sister are children without their mum, cancer being an unnatural thorn. Imperfection and illness - they don't sit well with me. Can't imagine they sit well with any of us really. So with that in mind, I turn to my favourite lyrics, accompanied by the sound of hope and I wish to grasp on to it. Because without it, things just don't make sense.
"Now, see yourself and see me too - and look ahead to a world that is new"
