Each year when Spring arrives, I am intensely reminded of my late Father. This year-this Spring- the memory of my Dad is much more intense-if that were possible.
As the Lilac tree in my garden comes into full bloom, and intoxicates with her indefinable scent- my Dad comes and stands beside me . I hear him whistle the Ivor Novello song ‘We’ll gather Lilac in the Spring again’- and unquestionably my tears will flow.
This Spring I urgently “gather the Lilac”- carefully breaking each stem- and holding to my face before placing them gently into buckets and later filling my house with their scented memory-and I try to believe that “Our Hearts will sing again”.
Spring arrived this year in her usual glory oblivious to her dark and destructive companion-Covid-19.