A sad day

Today would have been Dad's 92nd birthday. It's felt strange not to call him or to be with him to celebrate his birthday.

I have his original engineering hammer in my cabinet. (Actually there's nothing else in the cabinet until I get it attached to the wall).

The combination of intermittent drizzle (a horror with glasses) and a nagging cough kept me off my bike but not out of the garden. At least a couple of bits are looking better.

I walked with my friend and Jasper's favourite dogs. That was good as was the coffee.

Most of Dad's birthdays included a chocolate log cake. They were his favourite and Mum made one for him up until a year or 2 before she passed away. It's funny what you don't realise at the time as important threads in the tapestry of family life.

It's been a sad day and that's ok. It's the first year with neither parent's birthdays to celebrate, an underlining of being in the orphan club. Not really, they're still my parents. Grief comes and goes as she pleases and today she paid a visit.

Today's gratitude: For a long conversation with Fay, Dad's sister. We laughed and remembered, and it was good.