It’s almost impossible to believe that it is 10 years today that you sailed off into your sunset. And, I hope you’ll be pleased to know that I spent the day in some of our special places, Dunmore East and out along the Copper Coast. I walked miles – faster than usual, as if you were striding along just a tad ahead of me as if pulling me along.
I wasn’t sad or lonely because it was like you were with me.
There wasn’t a clear horizon this morning – the sky melted into the silvery sea. It was soft and gentle, just like the way you slipped away that morning when our backs were turned.
I was thinking of precious moments we shared and so many of them were small things, like the walks passed the mad Kerry Blue who you swore would never bite either of us because one bite from a Kerry Blue in a lifetime was quite enough for anyone to experience and you’d had your share as a young fella.
It’s impossible to think of you without thinking of Mother. It’s like the pair of you bookended summer with your deaths – May 31 and September 10 respectively, just 16 months apart. And what readers both of you were albeit of different genres. Mother into novels and poetry and you more non-fiction, politics and photography.
You’d be moithered trying to keep up with the political situation today. Brexit is at a tipping point, the economy is in pieces with the pandemic and the US election is finely poised and that’s just the headlines.
I bought some lovely heathers and fancy fragrant tulip bulbs in your honour and look forward to planting them and seeing them grow. This was always our time of year to head to the garden centre and choose delights to plant together.
So, goodnight and thanks for the thousands of happy memories.