Mother. (Episode 34).

7 09 2016


On occasion when I visit mother random photographs appear. They’re not presented to me directly but put in places where I’m likely to be. The side table, by the kettle, the mantelpiece and so on. They always come as a bit of surprise because they cast me back to a time or place without prior warning. Some evoking a smile, like the one of my son as a toddler, face alive, childlike wonderment, trying to say ‘cheese’, eyes dazzled by the flash. Some a reminder of how time flies, two children  eating ice creams, building sand castles.  My sister and I. The innocence.

Inevitably mother will ask me whether I’ve seen such and such a photograph. I’ll nod, and a conversation will ensue about times past. Its happened quite a lot in the past few weeks, and when I think about, it tends to happen every autumn. Must be something to do with the shorter days, the colder air – our lush green surroundings turning gold, yellow, red then brown.

In truth mother has boxes and boxes of photographs and we keep promising that one day we will organise them into albums. But for now, it will just have to be a case of random photographs produced as and when mother finds them. I in turn will come across them whenever mother puts one out, and be transported back in time quite unexpectedly, but for the most part quite happily, to which ever year or decade they take me to.




One response

7 09 2016
alienatednation - the silent majority.

Uploaded a draft by mistake. Above is the final version. Whoops.


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