Passing the daffodils

   Through life most of us dread the thought of getting old and yet old age appears to bring a peacefulness, a calmness, a bigger picture, a cast–away of all the trivial things that once annoyed us.  As I sat at the dinner table last week with mum and the three other ladies I noticed there was not a lot of conversation and yet they all had this bond of longevity and an understanding that only old eyes can see. Each had experienced love, children, loss and aloneness. The whole bucket of life’s experiences. But they were gentle, loving, caring people.
   Visiting the rest home I came to realise that my mother had many friends be it the cleaners, the maintenance man, the nurses, and all the staff at Northbridge that served her.  They cared and loved my mother very much and she cared and loved them back.
 On my visits I pushed her in the wheelchair through the village gardens then up the road to the coffee shop for a brownie and a flat white. And no matter how many times we passed the daffodils, we’d stop and she’d point out and comment “Oh how lovely, they’re my favourite." On Tuesday we passed the 'daffs' three times and three times she got as much joy from seeing the yellow display as the first. In this there’s a lesson, which I take away from my mother.
   No matter how old you are you can learn to embrace friendship, don’t sweat the small stuff but take joy from the simple things in life be it over and over again. Material things are great but love and kindness is the fuel for the heart.