LOVE

Having no handle on age in years but just how i feel, recently lost my birth certificate, passport and driving licence 5 months delayed at DVLA and have had cause to wonder about these constructs of identity. Never felt the need for the I, life seeming always to just be flowing feeling being what it is.

But

Upturning old papers in those boxes that contain such, almost discarded, rarely looked at, i came across letters. 

Letters from old loves, old friends and my Dad Cyril and Mum Iris. What heartrendingly sweet letters. Words artfully dodge the actuality of pinpointing the poignant love and child’s need to reach out - or a now older women’s. The desire to see them, speak to them, confide, be in their presence. A strange feeling, deep awareness intangible, sweet and sore. It hangs around.

What good people they were - never feel i understood that enough, was grateful enough or loved enough. Such are the complication of one’s personality.

The other  branch to this, my biological mum Maureen Leonie - is for another time. 

It is Iris who feels my heart with mother’s love and Cyril who was the best Dad in the world.

Excuse my luck, for lucky I have been and am, to be surrounded by the love of others. I pause at the precipice of expressing my love and exhibit redundant gratitude.

A small sparrow- sparrow arrow sorrow - has just flown into the room, yesterday it was a robin flying in panic - the type of thing i might share with dad 32 years gone and mum 12 years, yet after these many years of their passing, great is the conjuring power of the written word, saved and precious.