In spite of the Norman Batesness of this, I am really glad that I still feel such a connection to her, and that it seems natural to share things with her. I always could, in the same way that I could always count on being able to check out the wisdom of my ideas or plans with my dad. It's not that they had different parenting roles, but it did seem to break down that way with me. Even as a parent myself, I still had them to share things with and to get feedback.
|Mum and Dad on a visit to England|
My dad was a truly awful punster. He could never resist, nor could he tell you a pun without lighting himself up with the pleasure. When I was a kid, I used to hope I'd grow out of sharing what I saw as a base form of humour, but I still kind of bookmark puns I would tell him if he were here.
I'm not sure what has propelled me into this nostalgia-laden story, but it makes me happy to realize that, to badly paraphrase Einstein, time really seems to be a river you can dip your toes into at any stage.