Easter will forever be imprinted in my mind as the time when Dad suddenly became entirely different to his usual self. Looking back there had been more of a slow decline than I had realised but it was almost Easter when he raised a walking stick threatening to hit someone. It was Easter when he stopped answering calls and text messages. I was remembering all of this yesterday and had a wee cry. The first in many months.
This morning, Mum called at 6am to tell me her call bell wasn't working and despite my tiredness I didn't go back to sleep, instead I pottered then went to church and drove somebody home.
Given that it is Good Friday, church was solemn. In addition I am sore with a nagging back issue and maybe the grief glitter is being blown around at the moment.
With this milld irritability as my background state today, I was mighty surprised to find my self singing a children's song I must have learnt 45 years ago:
I am a promise, I am a possibility,
I am a promise, with a capital P
I am a great big bundle of po-ten-ti-al-ity-y
.......
I am a promise to be anything God wants me to be.
The song is completely incongruent with the day and honestly, with the trajectory of my life.
The happy little children's song was soon pushed aside when I arrived to find Mum had been given an "analogue" bell, the type you might see on a shop counter, and was hitting it madly:
ding ding ding
ding ding ding
ding ding ding ding ding ding ding
God Bless the carers.
On that long ago execution friday, nobody knew what would happen on Sunday and today I am reminded that nothing is over until it's over.
It is funny how something triggers a memory that really doesn't need to be remembered, but it can be nice.
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