Thursday, 18 December 2014
Earlier this year my mother passed away and I know when I meet up with the rest of my family on the 25th of December our memories of her will come flooding back. Our Christmas's were always special, even if there were no iPads, laptops, or designer clothes waiting for us when we got up.
Our Christmas stockings overflowed with fruit, candy, all inexpensive items but nevertheless gifts left by Santa. Amongst my small bundle of wrapped gifts left below the tree, there were always books, pens, pencils and a blank journal, everything a budding writer desired.
The gift of a blank journal continued each year until her last Christmas and the blank pages are now ready for another year of muse.