Roam the roads of lands remote



Thursday 7th April

“To move, to breathe, to fly, to float,
To roam the roads of lands remote,
To travel is to live.”

          ~ Hans Christian Andersen

A year ago it was the church service in honour of your short, but amazing life.
A whole year ago.

The post from a year ago today

And here we are in sunny Lisbon, looking out over the terracotta rooftops.
We’ll meet up with your brother and his girlfriend tomorrow.

We’ve brought you with us, though. You are here in spirit my darling.

I’m sure you’d like the bustling, busy city. You’d have to be careful crossing the roads though, as the drivers seem quite manic. U-turns, sudden stops, swerving in front of on-coming traffic, stopping in the middle of the road; you have to watch your step.

Love you so very much.
Thinking of you today and always.
Missing you like crazy.
Precious Angel son.



Looking over the terracotta rooftops


Statue outside our hotel (beautiful blue sky)


Sunset at the end of the road


The cobbled road, leading to the statue near our hotel. Strangely devoid of traffic

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