Wake Soup and Photos

17th January 2012 Tuesday

There was a hard frost in the night. I thought the roses at the grave would have frozen but my brother-in-law phones me at noon to say they have survived.

I stay in the kitchen all day cooking for the wake tomorrow - soup and quiches and cake.

Tonight I trawl through all our photo albums - three book shelves of them - and hoik out random pictures of my father over the last thirty years - and what I notice is how animated he is in them - usually deep in conversation, his finger raised in the air or listening to someone or growing something or building something - with my mother, with us, with his grandchildren, with his friends. Always with people - extending his love.

My favourite photo though is the one of him taken in 1999 in Chipapa village with a small African boy sitting on his lap. They both look totally at home.

I must go and wrap the chocolate brownies in foil now and make a list of things not to forget to take tomorrow. Like the saucepan of Squash and Cocnut soup outside the back door.