From pushchair shuttles
I was far too old for
to office cleaning jobs
and Jenny’s Burgers shakes.
Through tantrums over
toy cameras and boats
and hot afternoon waits
at Whitings Hill’s gate.
On all those bus rides
to Hadley Heights and home.
At dinner times of
faces drawn in the mash.
In all those school years
of drop offs and collects.
To your first place finish
in the sports day dash.
Your upbeat voice
has never missed a note.
The support and pride
an unwavering thread.
During Sunday visits
over updates and tea
or quick calls on the go
where not much is said.
Whether penny sweets
from the Forbuoys tubs
or housewarming gifts
of new pots and pans.
Everything’s with a love
we’re so thankful for.
Older, more distant
but still holding hands.