An old Saab

You know how, when you've loved someone, you never really lose them, not completely? For a moment in time, even just a split second, they are still alive and so close you can almost touch them.

Recently I was walking across a road in Kerteminde. When I stopped to look left and right, just as Tufty had taught me, what did I see at the next junction but a 1953 Saab, polished so shiny it could have be on its maiden trip, straight from the showroom. Taking my phone excitedly from my pocket, I turned to Thomas, and got as far as 'I can't wait...' before reality hit. I was going to complete my sentence with 'to show dad this picture'. Dad was a big Saab fanatic. For that fraction of a second, I almost forgot we lost him nine years ago today. It's been a lifetime, it's been a moment and yes, sometimes I almost forget I can't still show him a photo. 

I remember in the very early days saying to Thomas that I missed talking to him. Wise beyond her years Anna, who was 4 at the time, looked incredulous and said 'Just because he's not here, doesn't mean you need to stop talking to him. I still talk to him'. I always remember that as it seemed so profound from such a small child. So, I went ahead and took the pic anyway to show him, or tell him about, somehow...