Dear Diary, for those fortunate enough to be a Mum, today is their day. For me it is simply sad. I remember Darling Bobby Junior, and think of what could have been. But, I must not dwell on the long distant past. Especially when the future looms largely in my life ... it is just one huge map book with no index.
The day is spent quietly, but extremely pleasantly. Dear Niece tapped gently on my door this morning. I bade her enter, and hastened to open the door for her as I could ascertain that she was having a struggle on the other side of the entrance. Looking slightly flustered she carried a tray to my little table. A small lace cloth draped the tray that held goodies.
A delicate crystal vase held three small roses with a spray of maidenhair fern to highlight their pink blushness, a teapot cum cup, a bowl of fruit topped with cereal and yoghurt, plus a round of toast spread with my favourite ginger marmalade and cut into triangles were all arranged delectably on the tray. Niece bent over and kissing me gently on the cheek, murmured, "Happy Mother's Day Dear Aunt Alice".
I must have looked as surprised as I felt, as such an unsolicited act had never before been attempted.
She carried on, "Dear Aunt, you are more a Mother to me than an aunt!" And with that uttering, she turned and hurried out the room, but not before I noticed a tiny tear running down her face.
I chased after her. This was unprecedented Dear Diary! A show of sentiment from Niece is unheard of.
"Niece!" I called.
She turned, and I taking my opportunity, gave her a huge hug, thanked her for the wonderful gesture, and murmured that I too considered her as close to a daughter I could ever have.
The morning has gone so well. It is just amazing how a moments kindness lightens the heart and soul of an elderly aunt ... and I suspect that Niece is feeling as cheerful as I.
The day is spent quietly, but extremely pleasantly. Dear Niece tapped gently on my door this morning. I bade her enter, and hastened to open the door for her as I could ascertain that she was having a struggle on the other side of the entrance. Looking slightly flustered she carried a tray to my little table. A small lace cloth draped the tray that held goodies.
A delicate crystal vase held three small roses with a spray of maidenhair fern to highlight their pink blushness, a teapot cum cup, a bowl of fruit topped with cereal and yoghurt, plus a round of toast spread with my favourite ginger marmalade and cut into triangles were all arranged delectably on the tray. Niece bent over and kissing me gently on the cheek, murmured, "Happy Mother's Day Dear Aunt Alice".
I must have looked as surprised as I felt, as such an unsolicited act had never before been attempted.
She carried on, "Dear Aunt, you are more a Mother to me than an aunt!" And with that uttering, she turned and hurried out the room, but not before I noticed a tiny tear running down her face.
I chased after her. This was unprecedented Dear Diary! A show of sentiment from Niece is unheard of.
"Niece!" I called.
She turned, and I taking my opportunity, gave her a huge hug, thanked her for the wonderful gesture, and murmured that I too considered her as close to a daughter I could ever have.
The morning has gone so well. It is just amazing how a moments kindness lightens the heart and soul of an elderly aunt ... and I suspect that Niece is feeling as cheerful as I.
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