When I’m 74

When we were children, she would often sing ‘When I’m 64…’
I can still hear her singing, if I listen closely.

She sits in my kitchen now, watching us live our lives.
She sits in our living room holding her baby Grandson as we watch movies by the fire.

In my sisters kitchen, she holds her arm as the wind blows through their hair.
We talk to her there, we ask her to make things happen for us.
We say ‘please Mam just..’

We talk to her like she is there, and she is.

She is in all our homes, all our hearts.

We shared everything with our Mother, our secrets, our hopes, our fears.
We sang together in her kitchen, not to celebrate any particular occasion, we sang to share the music, the moment. All our girls, and our children, we sang our cares away.

Yesterday she would have been 74 years old not 64. I wish we could hear her sing with us again once more.

Instead, we will keep on
talking to her, singing like her, living for her.

Will you still need me, will you still feed me, when I’m 64….

Happy Birthday Mam. Xxx

An Peann


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