Ingleman

By Ingleman

Mellow

It was a mellow day today. 

Pleasantly warm but overcast. Slight drizzle on my walk with Hollie this morning.

The stricken baler is still stricken. The square sheep are still there. And the clover is growing again.

I am impressed with how vigorously it grows! 

This afternoon I took Mrs I to her parents and while she was 'caring and cooking', I visited my Mum's grave. 

She rests on a pleasing hillside looking out over Staffordshire fields. I cleaned off the headstone and trimmed the untidy grass. 

I felt at peace, knowing I had come today. Next week will mark the day of her birth. She would be 95 if she hadn't died. She would be pleased to see how we are doing in our new home. We moved exactly a year ago today. 

I also paused at other graves. Roger, her second husband. My stepfather. Val, my wife's lovely sister. Helen, the wife of a fellow bellringer. She was a cancer care nurse, and she died of cancer. Sam my late father's gardener and handyman. Tony, a friend  of my mum's. Who drove home from work one day, parked his car on the drive. And died at the wheel. 

And B, the young soldier, who was murdered whilst on active service in Afghanistan. He is buried next to Mum. She would love that, and be so proud. 

No sadness. Poignant, not sad. Mellow. 

And I saw a strange lady, pushing a pram, and with two excitable terriers on leads, she looked like she might need help. I stopped and enquired if she was ok? 

She scowled at me and said yes, we're fine thank you. As if she was offended at the thought that she might need help. From a man! At which a third terrier popped it's head out of the pram. And they all shuffled off in case I became a nuisance presumably. 

Another day done. 

Mellow. 

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