28/04/21 According to the clocks, I lost an hour today. I’ve asked for it back, as I would like to re-gift it to you, Mum. Please, take it. I really don’t need it; It is only an hour. A paltry token really, for the hundreds stolen by that callous illness that toyed with your daily rhythm, loosened your grip on small pleasures. Fill it. With whatever you fancy; relish the time as exclusively yours. Make it a self-regarding hour. I’ll just leave it here on the table beside your tea.