Getting older

Olympus OM-2sp | 50mm 1.8

Lately I have been thinking more and more about my dear mother. Is this because it was almoost a year since she left us.Or could it be because I am getting older myself and find that I am wondering what my mother was like before she was just "mother" in my mind?

Will tomorrow be another long day, the timing of things will be wrong, clicking when I should be snapping, moving when I am supposed to be daydreaming, forcing when I will be gliding, running when I should be walking, posting when I should be holding.

I smoothed my hand against the hot panel of the side car door on the way home, the static electricity always gave me a good shock. The children are spread around the country, doing things without me - without their father. They are older than they used to be. I slide off my flip-flops and push my foot hard on the gas pedal, feel the warm rubber. The sun is moving downward. The sky is clean and blue. The trees are many with beautiful soft Kedah green. The trees' heads bump against the sky. Sunlight moves over my arms and my face and my hand is burnt against the car door panel. I am going home to my wife and there is her face and her hands and her eyes and our history and our future.