Today would have been my Dad's 90th birthday... I'm not quite sure why this seems important to share but over the last few weeks I've found myself noting the various nonegenarians in my world and then realising that, were he still alive, my Dad would be contemporary with them.

Just after Easter it will quarter of a century since he died which feels like a significant marker - the above photo on his 65th birthday was taken just weeks before he died.  I can't pretend I was close to my Dad, but there have been times as a middle-aged woman I'd have loved to have been able to sit down and talk about stuff with him.  His final weeks were quite precious, his 65th birthday, spent in a hospital ward a day characterised by love and laughter despire the unspoken certainty that time was short.  We weren't close, but he was my Dad and I loved him.

My Mum always claims my Dad was the Clerk of the Weather, so maybe some sunshine for your 90th, eh Dad...