Three Years On

Today is Winnie the Pooh Day.
It is also the third anniversary of losing my Mum. She was 95.
Hubby says he looks at me sometimes and sees my Mum.
I know. I see her every time I look in the mirror.

I remember visiting a Great Aunt and Uncle when I was staying with my grandfather in 1970.  Both in their 80s, they kept calling me Marjorie, I suppose because I was with their brother, and they assumed I was his daughter.
Mum used to say I looked more like her Mum, but I only have the one picture of her.
Three years. It seems longer because of her dementia, but other times, only recent.
We lit a huge church candle every day over Christmas and New Year for Mum, the Dads, Maggie and all of our friends now departed. It finally burnt out on January 2nd.
With the present situation regarding Covid, Mum may well have been very confused and distressed if she was still with us. She is in our hearts and memories though, always close.
My reflection tells me that.

Bless you Mum. Give Dad a kiss from me. I miss you both.