You never think of your mother as anything other than your Mum, and much older than you. When dad died (93) half a dozen years ago, I was in my early sixties. So going through all his stuff, I found a picture of mum, in her early twenties or late teens. (She was nineteen when they married) Anyway, I realised to my shock, that she was absolutely beautiful. No wonder dad married her.
Life never seems to stop handing out surprises. (luckily) Perhaps I am fortunate that I am aware enough, to be still awed at the wonders that life hands out to one.
