small (five minute friday)

Joining with the writing flash mob that is Five Minute Friday at the home of the lovely Lisa Jo Baker. #FMFparty

Five minutes on: small

It’s funny as the generations carry on we all get slightly bigger. Not unlike Russian dolls, a slightly larger version of what has gone before.  All starting off from small.

The children all tower over me now.

I come from a line of small women on Dad’s side. Nanna was just shy of five feet and Nanny (great grandma) was even smaller. Nanny died when I was very young and for years I thought she was kept in the wooden hinged box in the loft room at Nanna’s. Such was the small mind concept of death at the time. It took years to realise that was not true.

The last time I saw Nanna she was curled in a foetal ball on the hospital bed, sleeping peacefully, breathing softly. I kissed the small, fragile, woman-child goodbye one last time, she resting in womb-secureness, just before she stepped over the threshold and into the light.