… that my first impression of her was contained in the word “soft”. Something about her skin called to mind silkiness and begged to be touched. But those eyes; they let you know that you weren’t messing with no fool.
… that living with her and her husband felt like living with my parents. The rules they set for their children were the same ones we were expected to abide by.
… that she was first to suggest inviting my mum round to visit. Her argument? That she would want to meet the people who were looking after her child.
… that she received Mum with the same hospitality I had watched her extend to others. She allowed mental illness to walk into her home and met it with kindness and welcome: seeing beyond the strange behaviours to the person beneath.
And I remember
… that it was these gentle ministrations that first made me fall a little in love with her.
Dedicated to: Aunt Jan (my Foster Mother) – who died in July 2013. Thank you for sharing yourself, your husband, your life and your home with the children of strangers. You are a badge of honour that I wear with pride.
This piece was written and submitted as part of WordPress.com’s Weekly Writing Challenge. The writing challenges are designed to “help you to push your writing boundaries, show off your blogging chops, and, hopefully, spark more post ideas”. The posts should be specifically written in response to the challenge set.
This week’s challenge was to “Set a countdown timer for 10 minutes, choose one of the writing prompts [on memory], and just start writing. Whatever you do, don’t stop for ten minutes”.
You can see how other bloggers responded to the challenge, on I Remember.
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AUTHOR: I am might war. I have a love of music, the written word, travel, Anime, polar bears, people and “sticking and colouring”.