A Sense Of Loss

Another frantic day, but an interesting one. So frantic I quite forgot, until just now, to carve out time to reflect on Mum's life on this, the anniversary of her death.

And now reflecting on that life I'm struck by both how ordinary it was, reasonably typical in most ways of that of a working class lass from around Stalybridge way in the north of England in the twentieth century, and how fascinating: the many jobs, the conversion to Catholicism, the dancing, the visits to Singapore in old age, et al.

And a further thought strikes me: I suppose it's true of everyone, really. The interest, I mean. In our odd particularities we cannot avoid being unique and when any one of us leaves this mortal world to be gathered into Eternity a whole universe is lost.