Uncles

4th Dec 2108

Last Friday I went to the cemetery to visit the grave of my mother and father. It was just me and my husband. My sister couldn't meet me there that day. I texted my uncle who lives nearby and told him that I was near. He said pop in for a cuppa.
I looked around in the area I knew their ashes were buried. Fallen leaves and other debris hid the spot and it took me a while to find the black stone plaque.
My husband went off to get water and cleaned the granite, which revealed the gold writing and rubbing the wet from my eyes, I whisper, yes, that's just right.
We say a prayer together, then I spend some moments in silence thinking of them and of how time doesn't take away the longing to be with them.
After not more than half an hour we left I walked to the car , my head jumbled with memories and the wish for more memories.
What an hospitable greeting awaits us at my uncle's. My aunt is there too, getting ready to go to work . She stops to talk with us . While we have tea and lemon cake , my uncle's favourite, he tells me, I quiz him about my grandfather, who was in the IRA. I find out among other things that he joined when he was sixteen. Just a lad, I think.
As we drive away a little while later we ponder on the importance of family.

And I was reminded of my uncle who lives in Ireland and who I wrote a poem about when he visited  Mum for the last time before she died.
Here it is again:


Oct  2015
This poem was inspired by a couple of hours spent with my Uncle going for a walk in North London.


Mid Morning Walk With Uncle

To the right or to the left,
New steps to take.
This way or that -go left.
A robin, friendly reminder, joins us,
Going before with joyous song.
We stop, admire the rich beauty -
A Japanese Red Dragon Plant,
Exotic,  glorious in Autumn sun .
But don't interrupt the story.

We walk on, uphill,  breathless
Slow our pace,
Enjoy sky - blue, clear
In still air,
words struggling to escape
And  reaching  the top, stop
Only for a moment,
To quiet the pulse,
But don't interrupt the story.

How far shall we go?
We'll see now, just keep going,
Maybe we'll reach the village.
All topics keep the
Conversation - the tale-  fresh:
The house with the huge gated driveway
Double fronted and double garage -
Double your money.
But don't interrupt the story.

The ruin of a Church left forlorn,
In the graveyard,
Seems right somehow.
Centuries of ordinary life
Witnessed by these stones-
We imagine ancestors.
The chap who bought four burial plots -
Just to make sure.
But don't interrupt the story.

At last we reach our goal-
The village high street.
Let's stop for a bit before we head back.
The pub or a cafe.
No, not Costa, not Costa...
Ahhh,  There, a sweet little place,
Hidden from view,
Cappucino £1,20.
Yes, that'll  do,
But Don't interrupt the story.