a special rose

My mother in law died this morning after a sudden painful mysterious illness. Although we never spoke the same language and even though it was because of me really that one her sons never really came home, Muima always tried to reach out to me. She liked to tell me, interspersed with an infectious laugh and a roll of the head, of her journeys back to her husband's home in the mountains where no-one was able to speak to her in her own language. She loved to laugh and joke, and she loved music. Her smile is imprinted on my memory.