Yesterday was not as bad a day as it might have been. People went out of their way to be kind and to make sure that I did not feel alone. I am grateful for that and for the several conversations I had talking about my children and especially their early days.
I remembered many small things dredged up from the detritus of life and at one point I went to church, between two services so that I was alone.
I lit three candles, one for each child and one for David, who held me and comforted me during the bad times .
Trying not to be morbid here...but this simple act freed me then to sit and recall old times, of Roz playing her flute and driving her brother off his inevitable game of chess which was conducted on the phone in those pre digital years.
I remembered the wet Sundays playing Monopoly or Cluedo, the misery for Adrian when, as the school goal keeper he had let a ball in and lost them the game!
Teaching them how to cook during the school holidays and then eating all the buns over the next week..
Holidays in Cornwall where we surfed the summer through, returning each night to our camp site on a local farm.
Rosalind filled the house with glorious music. Adrian went punk and I learned tolerance of The Boomtown rats!
Lighting the candles somehow released most of the misery and allowed my mind into a day of memory and thanksgiving.
It may grow into a ritual in later life but leaving the church afterwards I reflected on my own blessed trinity...three candles to carry my prayers upwards, to commend their souls to God and to remain an image of love in my heart forever. Thanks to all who contributed.