This being the anniversary of Mum's death I've been thinking of her today more than is my usual wont. But I've also been thinking rather more than usual of other of my dead. By an odd coincidence I've received almost simultaneously e-mails from Cousin Jean and Ann, each with a photo attachment. Jean sent some old, indeed very old pictures featuring Dad and Uncle Jim as babies, kids of around ten and as soldiers, one with their mum & dad. I've seen the soldier pictures before, but never the shots of them when they were youngsters.
Ann sent a picture of myself and Tony, at the time of their engagement do, looking impossibly young and clean cut. Funnily enough I remember the occasion we were at vividly, though not the taking of the photo which was quite a casual shot.
Is this all a bit morbid? Not at all, as far as I can tell. I don't dwell in the past, but it's good to visit some times and be reminded of what counts. Larkin got it right, as he so often did, despite the mess he made of his life: What will survive of us is love.
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