one week in and I was smitten, how could you not be....
dads opener to mum was "he's a bit older than our Nita"
ever loyal, mum replied "our Nita's no spring chicken herself"
they saw past the numbers, obviously… as I smiled at mums maternal insight…!
of course there were sad times, but smiles still sit on synapses
waiting to be catapulted into consciousness…... drifting
off to sleep being read Rumpole (voices and all), e-mail acrostics,
jokes about how the sun almost made Ross House look like
a piece of architecture and fab halloumi food...

recollections of music and words, laughter and warmth,
joined with gentleness and love... my wish…? Simply that you
can feel these things now
xxx