Beautiful words Gordon. Thinking of all who knew the lovely Magteld today. She blessed us. x
Magteld with the cake for Adam’s sixth birthday.
In one of my first letters from Magteld, a couple of months after we met, she asked when my birthday was. The note arrived on August 31st, the morning after my 19th birthday, so I was recovering from a late night in a campsite bar swilling cheap Italian lager by the bottle. She told me hers was March 5th, and I realised that we were separated by almost exactly six months. Every horoscope I ever glanced at on the train warned me that our two star signs were cosmically mismatched, but I relished the strict rhythm our dates bestowed on the yearly cycle, like an army marching in step.
In those early years birthdays were among the few occasions when we permitted ourselves a phone call, in that not so distant time when talking across borders was prohibitively expensive…
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