There are two that echo down the years, changing shades, changing colours.
Focus comes and goes, clarity to opaque.
The clearest are also the oldest. Fragments, but strong and clear.
One tall, a rectangle, shades of brown, background, there but not present, not up front.
The other clear, bright, strong pastels. Shining, the forefront, the first of every day, the last of every night.
Allowing freedom, but always aware, always watching. Patching up, all the nicks of growing up outdoors.
The supporter, the cheer leader, the provider of flavours. The dyer of deep dark maroon cushion covers.
Ever present, the sunshine, even when the rain bounced knee-high of the rust-red earth.
And even when the widest of blue skies were exchanged for dull and dark and cold, the sunshine was always beside me, leading, allowing to find a way, and always watching.
And the tall, rectangular figure became a little more grey than brown, the costume adjusted to suit the climate, but the distance not diminished.
And the sunshine sometimes lost some glow, and a sharp angle would appear, briefly.
And the shine developed a melancholy twilight, with a little acid sharpness at its heart.
And the distance between the two increased, and it slowly became 3 and 1. Then 3 and none.
And in the innocence of youth, and the distractions of teenage trials, the shocks were sharp and unexpected. And the blame and anger ran deep.
The divide was clearly defined, and whilst the shine became a less constant glow, there was a steel that maintained the support.
And time provides a different angle, a variation of perspective, and the essence of the shine rediscovered some essence. And the distant figure came into focus for the first time.
And the anger disappeared, because truth can do that. And balances start to readjust.
And for a while, separately but in unison, they both rediscovered their realities.
But the shine became a less constant glow, and the sadness and disappointment added the acid angles and sharp rebukes. But the heart and soul were still there, damaged but not broken.
And age took a toll on both, with its own annoyances and frustrations. But genes kept them going for longer than most.
And then gone. within a year.
And the memories churn, and fade and re-emerge. And may not all be reliable, but are all strong. and are not fading.
I don’t know why, but today I miss you both, stronger than for quite a while.
You are there in my thoughts every day, sometimes fleeting, sometimes as a lasting murmur.
But today the gap that is you is clear and deep.
I miss you both, and still need you in my heart.
Mum, Dad, thanks.
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