Remembering that which went unrecognized

Another day of relative idleness. Arose from my slumbers shortly before my beloved returned from chapel but, at least I’d already prepared Sunday dinner, a Turkey Curry, yesterday afternoon so, all that remained to be done was placing the casserole dish in the oven and prepare the rice. It was just like old times today, as Graham (who’d come up to do some final clearing up at his old flat) stayed with us overnight and shared Sunday dinner.


When Helen returned from chapel, she was eager to tell me about the mention the minister had made, during his sermon, about my late Mum. She certainly managed to make an impression on the people she encountered; somehow in her later (invalided) years, they still found that spark of the old Anne whom they’d never really known and, which we were only able to spot on special rare occasions during her lengthy nursing home years.


It is always something very special when others recount the privilege they felt in knowing her; I knew so well just how privileged I was, even though I frequently (or complacently) fell into a way of taking it for granted. As children, my brother and I were never really aware of the financial hardship my parents underwent, as my father patiently pastored his flock in the International Holiness Mission and as a lay pastor in the Methodist Church. I feel certain that Clergy (whether Deacons or Ministers) these days don’t really appreciate just how well off they are! For my father, it was service he was called to, not a career but, alongside that, one wonders whether such people are fully aware of the hardships that may be imposed on their loved ones.


Only in the final years, of Mum’s illness, did this hardship ever come to the fore (distant memories took over at times, from more recent ones) yet, she too believed in ‘service’ without looking for reward. She just couldn’t help but minister to those around her.

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