The reason for the trip was to visit the place Susie's mother Frances spent so much time, the F. Foundation. The first of these photos is of the quiet garden and sanctuary where Chloë and I scattered some of Frances's ashes. The second is of Susie and Cathie in front of the first whisky barrel house.
|Sanctuary and Quiet Garden|
Susie, rather disturbingly, brought me a small stack of letters I had written to her Mom. Truth to tell I had almost forgotten I ever wrote letters. It feels archaic in this day of emails, Tweets and Facebook. Also there's the guilty feeling about not having any to show her from her Mom but I've moved a lot and things have been jettisoned or mislaid.
I was very afraid of reading them - I've never liked being plunged back into the past. This morning I braced myself. Some were as I had feared, quite depressing because I was depressed when I wrote them. Some were much more cheery and informative. I found myself enjoying them. If I had realised I would read them 12 (and even some 20 years) later I might have written more.
This blog has been a way of writing letters, mostly to myself. A friend has suggested I sew some together, figuratively speaking, and publish them one way or another. Probably just gathering them up and printing them out for my even older age would do.
It's a thought.
Memo to self after editing this....Please learn to check before clicking and it's about time you learned the difference between 'where' and 'were.'