Was going to post some photos of my ripening tomatoes with artistic raindrops beginning to drip. Then stumbled upon an untitled photo. Opening it up it was a photo of my mum, approx. a year before she died and before we knew just how ill she was. Its a side on view while she sits quietly, I suspect being my willing model for a new camera.
I stared and knew every part of that person. Every line, every hair, every mark was familiar. The scent and the feel of the skin etched into my memory. How can it possibly be 16 months since I have seen her. Surely she has just popped out to the shops and she'll be back laden with toilet roll and kitchen roll bargains tied to her shopping trolley. Which she will sort while I put the kettle on and get ready to listen to whatever saga had ensued on her outing - as there nearly always was one. She will tell who helped her in whichever shop and which neighbour stopped to say hello.
When I look at a photo it's like ten minutes ago. When I look at her empty room it's like 10 years ago. To have had a person for 44 years and then not to have her takes a lot of getting used to.