The new Photos widget on iOS is a constant source of delight. Each day the algorithm selects a photo from my collection and displays it on the front screen of my iPhone or iPad. Sometimes it is based on date, sometimes on season, but it regularly digs out photos that otherwise I would have forgotten or not seen for ages.
I realise that it is probably the same thing as when you think of buying a new car and see nothing but that type of car on the roads, but since my mother’s death the widget has presented an uncanny number of photos of Mum. Lovely photos of her with the kids at the beach, photos of her on her first day of school, photos of her in her last days in the care home.
Mum and Dad’s wedding photo coming up today and I found myself looking for a long time at both families, bridegroom, bridesmaids etc. all standing neatly arranged on the steps of the church. As far as I know all of them are dead apart from my Dad.
It is fascinating looking into their smiling eyes, especially my grandparents on both sides, thinking that they are all part of me. Their stories, their hopes and aspirations, their challenges, are all encoding in my DNA.
Being part of those story lines disappearing back into the forgotten past is a salutary thought.
The Obvious? 
I know you are a tad younger than me but your parents wedding photo is very similar to ones I have of my mum and dad. What year were they married?
I also have a beautiful letter that my father wrote to my mother the night before they were wed. It’s very precious given his short life.
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They were married in 1957. How old was your father when he died?
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My mum and dad had three kids by then! I was the youngest. My father died in 1959, he was 33.
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Goodness, how very sad. I am very conscious that I have been lucky to have my Dad around for so long.
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Yes indeed.
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