Today, Dave who is visiting from Ireland , handed me a job advert he had seen in the newspaper. It is perfect, a job i would love to do, though the fact that Dave handed me the paper gives no guarantee that i would get the job if i apply. Dave is not, yet , in a position to hire or fire people at the BBC.
The last time something similar occured was in 1973 when i was beginning to panic and self implode because of the stress of taking A levels, applying for university and leaving home. My mother handed me a newspaper and showed me an advert for a job opportunity that she thought might interest me.
At the time i was either too convinced of my mother's inability to possibly know what would be good for me or i was just distracted by blind panic. Either way i never applied for the trainee camerman position at the BBC, though i still marvel at her insight or forsight. That job too would have been perfect.
This is one of the top three memories i have of my mum; top three in that they are the first three to surface regularly though they are often crowded out by more haunting ones that remain from her death.
Number two - is watching her peel an apple to accompany her piece of cheese that regularly constituted her lunch.
Number three - is the blurr as she left me standing in a head to head race across the park when i was young and a sprinter of some renown in my local school; she taught me humility and respect at the same time.
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