Tag: Remembering

The Little Things

by mudpie12, posted in Living

Sitting on my bookshelf is a small plastic beaker with a split down the side. Yet this little beaker is very precious. The beaker has painted on it a picture of Mickey Mouse and on the back the words Merry Xmas Graham. Graham was my dad and the beaker was his.

My dad was born in 1937 and therefore his formative childhood years were during WW2. Like most, there was little to be had at any time and this was no different at Christmas. He remembered walnuts in his stocking (they had a tree in the garden) and usually a book and some small item, new to him but not necessarily new.

I can only hazard a guess that this little beaker was one such gift. The Mickey Mouse is clearly painted on, as is the inscription and my hunch looking at it, that it’s the hand of a talented amateur. But clearly this little beaker meant a lot to my dad as he always kept it, indeed the only thing from his childhood he kept. Tucked away in a corner of a kitchen cupboard it resurfaced as we cleared his house.

Now this precious little beaker is a reminder of my dad. No longer confined to the cupboard it “smiles” at me every time I wander over to get a book. I wish I had had the opportunity to ask my dad about the beaker but as is often the way it was found too late. But more than anything it resonates with me because this little beaker so simply captures what a lovely man my dad was and for that I will always treasure it.

Wind in my hair, sun on my face

by mudpie12, posted in Living

It was one of those wonderfully rare Mondays perfect weather and being between projects nothing to keep me at my desk. Although the sun was shining, there was a strong breeze and the early morning spring chill. So after a few months of being left to idol in the garage I dusted off the bike and set off camera in hand down our rural lanes. Being on the bike certainly puts you as one with nature. Birds in particular are less concerned and it provides the opportunity to get up close. The sparrows chattering away in the hedging, the overhead battle between gulls and buzzard (no contest the gulls won). One thing that always strikes me being on the bike is just how noisy nature can be. When you walk the wildlife goes quiet when you are near, sensing danger but on the bike the just carry on singing; clearly the bike is my very own cloak of invisibility which is quite something in my bright yellow coat.

I am also struck by how a bike can bring out the almost child like joy in people. To be honest I like nothing more than whizzing down a hill or zipping through a big puddle with the associated childish giggles. Clearly I am not alone, a couple of shall we say mature years, were like a pair of five year olds as they whipped past, down the hill convulsing in giggles by the time they had got to the bottom. The bike providing not only physical but mental well being too. Perhaps in the last year we have all had the time to reflect on the need to find joy in the simplest of things. I have noticed too how much more interaction I have with those I cycle past, a chat here, a friendly wave, encouragement to get up the hill. Genuine smiles of people, happy for some engagement.

Then are those rare moments that make you feel very privileged. On my ride today I saw a group of people walking up ahead. Not your traditional hikers as they dressed in black and suits. As I came up to them it became clear these were mourners. They explained they had just been to the funeral for their relative at our local parish church. Their relative had loved this area having lived in the village for years. After the small service they were walking his favourite route, carrying his picture, a simple but beautiful way that they could be together to remember him.