It has been Mothering Sunday here. My daughter came over with plants for my garden and chocolates.
She made some great choices, and I’m very pleased and happy. She loved my hair too, so that was really nice to hear.
It has been sunny all day and I was sitting in the sun when she arrived. It so wonderful to see her in sunshine.
I found this, which I wrote about my Dad, 8 years ago.
Saw my Dad today, as it was his birthday yesterday. He was shuffling (but I’m hoping he was tired) and clutching my hand for dear life. (My right hand under his elbow and my left holding his left hand.) I tried to be more helpful when we reached his armchair, but he reacted with fear, verbally and physically. So I moved the chair to him. I am learning new thing about my Dad, or seeing them from another angle. His acceptance of his fear, his patience. That my hero is now slowly dying and needs me in a different way. He is courageous as ever, and I cry, for when I was dying, he carried me
I remember that day.
It’s now evening and I still feel like I want to be somewhere. I feel so good.