So how many people walk into a farmers market humming to the beat of a song on their mind, thinking about their Dad who would’ve been pretty proud of the sequence of things that happened today…. And as you take a turn the live musician starts singing – “I wasn’t there the morning my father died, and I was not there to say the final good byes. But I know in spirit he is still watching me…” and you are not able to hear the rest because you have broken down behind that mask of yours and you rush out of the market, with teary eyes, heavy heart and a firm belief that your father was there with you at the market today.

🙋‍♀️ Me!