Ask Mum and Dad

I choose the memory tags pinned to my mental calendar. What I want to be sure to carry with me through the rest of my life.

For Wednesday 8 February the image is speaking on the phone to my parents on the way to the pharmacy to buy throat sweets for my wife. She had virtually lost her voice, brought low by the cold weather. When she was last ill like this we were at my parents and my father gave her some throat sweets she found particularly helpful. But we could not remember the name.

They were out when I first called, so I tried again on the way to the pharmacy. They have two phones so are both on the line together. After a quick chat about their day out, I asked asked the sweets and immediately they told me the name. I explained the situation and promised to call them later.

This conversation is my memory tag for this day. But not because I want to remember the name of the sweets.

My parents are in their seventies. My maternal granparents lived into their nineties, but I never met my paternal ones. My father has already outlived his father by more than fifteen years.

Although they have always been there, I know that - if I don't go first - there will be times in the future when I want to call or visit and they are there no longer.

It may be for a forgotten recipe or simply because I miss them.

Then I will remember this and other days and be glad I appreciated them at the time.