Sunday, 25 December 2016

All I can hear. ...

Is the ticking of the clock on the wall of my bedroom. I wonder at this, it's battery- driven:  no need for the  tick, but there you  are, and I am glad of it, a reminder that the clock is still telling time and is probably telling it right. 


It wasn't always so. For years on this morning our children would be bursting in ( in three minutes, 'not until eight 'o clock' was the rule!) faces glowing with excitement, my heart bursting with love  for them... ) 

Today all three of them will be sharing Christmas with their own children. They are delightful mothers with lovely husbands and beautiful children. I smile with deep, deep satisfaction. 

Job done.


Merry Christmas!


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