Apparently, it is the Feast of the Immaculate Conception today. Or at least, that is what my Grandma, Frances, used to tell me (it also happened to be her birthday - she died one year ago, the day before Gary and I ran the Amsterdam Marathon).
This is a photo of her mother (also Frances) with her husband, George. We don't know who the baby is. Her mother (my Great Grandmother) vanished into an institution for her whole life, and so my grandma (and, indeed my father and his sister) never knew her. We only recently discovered this and don't know why. The reason given (that she went 'religious' and lit a lot of candles after her husband's war-related death) doesn't seem to add up.
This year the brevity of life has hit me hard. I want to make sure I pay proper attention to keeping up with family as well as friends.
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