Roll out the Baron.

A dear friend has been on my mind today. She called me yesterday....we hadn’t spoken in a little while, as we’d both been going through individual tribulations recently, and telephonic verbals weren’t what was needed in our relationship. But oddly we’d suddenly tried to reach each other.

Her dad had died, and he was someone I’d got to know a bit over the last few years. An exasperating but interesting cove, he infuriated daughter T beyond belief, and I understood why, having been witness to his many self-centred proclivities and eccentricities, which led me to nickname him the Biscuit Baron. Nevertheless, he’d seen and experienced much, and I remain convinced he loved T in the only way he knew how, even if it didn’t manifest itself in a way which was easily relatable.

We all add our uniqueness to this world, and I hope leave a trace of something worthwhile when we depart it. For me, the best thing the Baron added was T herself, so definitely a life well played. 

I feel sure they’d both smile at this going through my mind when taking a contemplative wander through a local churchyard...