This Easter I spent sharing with 20 other people, three three-generation families and an old friend I've known since 1976. She and her husband had been joining this annual Easter meet for decades, he being one of the orginal chaps from uni who would arrange to go on walking holidays staying in youth hostels. Two years ago they suggested that we join, realising that my husband and I had so much in common with their friends of fifty years. We could not go two years ago, but I joined them last year, a year after my husband had died.
They're a splendid sociable lot with intelligent conversation that my husband would have enjoyed as much as I do. There's not as much walking as they must have done originally, but they'd do outings that suited the youngest generation, who ranged from five to 19.
One day we went with kids to The Corris Centre where we could see all the craft shops, Arthur's Labyrinth, or spend three hour down a mine, accessing parts with climbing ropes, and a maze (I liked the best)
Another day, the eldest generation visited the Red Kite centre with some enthusiastic photographers snapping the best pictures.
I enjoy people's company, getting to know their lives and interests and worries. I liked all of them from youngest to oldest. What hit me was how much I've moved on from when I joined them last year, cold and lonely and still mourning. This year I'm more settled and happy and warmer - probably helps that I've fitted a new gas fire in our kitchen!
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