Mother's Day

from w
Here's a very old photo of my grandmother, Francis Lay, my mother Linda and myself as a chubby baby. I'm thinking of my Mum today, remembering the good times and the occasional hurts that happened when we were not considerate. I used her dinner set last night for our party and remembered her particular care with her house and cooking, so different from my own, and this morning at church I played a bit of the Mozart Piano 21st, remembering that I chose that music - on tape - for her funeral in Swan Hill a few years ago. I could have done many things so much better as for many years I did not say thank you as I merrily disregarded the kind of things she admired and wanted in me.

Also I am thinking of the many women who foster or adopt children, or are carers in institutions such as Dilkusha Home in Fiji, people like Gwen Davey, a Methodist missionary for many years at Dilkusha, and today Deaconess Olivia. We met Olivia on a trip to Fiji, sat on the verandah with her, drank cool lemon drinks, and looked over towards the two bridges below, remembering the time we lived with our little family in Shantiniwas below - a building which is no longer there.