I don’t get down to see mother often enough. There are a host of reasons for that, but none will make me feel better when it’s too late to do it anymore.
When ever I do go down, I try and pop in and visit dads resting place to say hi (silly, but I actually do this) and pay my respects.
Today we went over together and I took this picture after we had tidied the grave, placed some flowers and said our hellos and as we headed back to the car
Mums in her 70’s now, and I love her dearly, but I get more than a little choked up by this image. At the time I was fine, it was just us doing out thing, however given a moment to reflect on it, I remember all the occasions we’ve been to this church: weddings, christenings, and too many funerals, and the it hits me just how long this church has been in my life, how I’ve grown up with it, and I see how fragile mother has become.
I know one day I’ll be back here to put her with dad, but I vow now to make sure I spend as much time before that with her as possible, and to tell her more often how much I love her ❤️❤️❤️
I sincerely say to you: tell the people you love what they mean to you as often as you can.