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Defrosting the freezer makes me think of my mother. She was very frail towards the end of her life and would hobble in to the kitchen and stand in the most inconvenient place and offer to help. I'd tell her no, it's OK but sit and talk to me while I do it. Make the time pass pleasantly
And she would talk about Walter De La Mare the poet, or Andy a boyfriend she had during WW2 or her own sisters who by then were all dead. Once she told me about going to see the lying in state of King George Vl and how three queens had attended his funeral. My best memories of my mother are not from childhood when I was one of many but when we were two women together alone talking. It seems funny to miss her presence here in this kitchen which she was never in, as we moved here after she died, but I do.
Perhaps in middle age my daughter or my God daughter will miss me and my stories in a kitchen I will never know....