Mum on the right, with her elder sister.
Mum in India, at the missionary kids' school she worked at for about five or six years, before she married my father.
Mum on her wedding day, in January 1985. With her new stepdaughter Felicity and her elder sister again.
Mum with me, in the late eighties, at the construction site of our new holiday home at Church Bay.

So this is my beginning. I am going to start by posting these few photos of my mother, spread rather randomly over her life. I like looking at these photos, because I didn't realise how much I would miss my mother physically - her smile, her eyes, especially her hugs. Looking back at these photos, I realise there were things I never noticed about my mother, like her sense of humour, for example. I wonder, did I actually know my mother as well as I thought I did? I thought she was one of the people I knew the best, but I wonder if I, as one of the closest people to my mother, was blinded more than others.

The problem I see with all this wondering and soul-searching - it's so unnecessary because it doesn't help at all. It just makes me more insular and I really don't think that's a good thing.