Life: Marking time

Strange to think that my mother died 30 years ago today - that's a whole lifetime ago. And sad that I'll be heading off later in the week to help bury my Aunt in the most tragic of circumstances. But I type this with my daughter standing beside me, drinking milk, crayoning on the table (ooops, #parentingfail) and burbling about planets with her ginger hair flying in many directions. Even if the Buddhists are wrong and life is not a cycle of death and rebirth for us individually, it is for us as a species. I see my mum's face in my daughter's sometimes, and that makes me happy. Life goes on in all it's wonderful, chocolate-demanding, crazy cacophony.