Fathers Day

We were so happy to have J and M visit us for Fathers Day. We had our usual Sunday roast, served at either end of our garden table. After a wet start the day was fine, if a bit breezy. It was just so good to be with them for a few hours.
We talked a little bit about N’s father whom J remembers well. He said his most abiding memory was the way he used to roll his own cigarettes and tap them on his thumb nail when they were finished. Nobody else today remembers my father, so I will just have to think of him by myself. I was only fifteen when he died, but I have some happy memories.