A bittersweet time of year in my house.
School is awash with colour (predominantly yellow, to be fair).
The children hunt for eggs and share their spoils, most of which are furtively consumed before breakfast.
Like a pseudo Hansel and Grete, they create a brightly coloured trail of silver foil wrappings for me to retrieve and dispose of.
The school children make their bonnets and parade them for mums and dads.
But it also marks the time of year when the two greatest women in the world passed away.
Lil, my nan was truly magnificent, as was her endless scrubbing of the kitchen lino. Easter Sunday marks the anniversary of her loss.
And her youngest daughter, Jean. My mum. As if complying with a long held appointment, 8 years ago this week she went off to join Lil. I can’t think of a better place to go.
I don’t feel sadness today; there are no tears. Grief does not necessarily sail in to shore on birthdays or anniversaries.
Mercifully, there have been no ‘second comings’. That kind of thing can put the willies right up a person. I have placed a large bunch of flowers on the kitchen table in their memory, and each time I pass it draws my eye and elicits a little smile.
The birds are singing like crazy today. Happy Easter girls.