On the way home I visited my Mum and Dad’s memorial bench and then walked past our old house in Grenville Drive. Every time I have walked past over many years, I have paused to admire the concrete slab across the bottom of the driveway, mixed and laid down so neatly by my Dad sixty years ago. It was still there in the spring, but today it was gone; a new driveway has been laid right down to the street and my Dad’s work is no more. I felt a bit sad, but I suppose that it was always inevitable that it would be replaced one day, and it lasted for a long time.
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