Blackpool Tower is 158m high. Near the top there is a solid glass section of the floor where you are invited to put your faith in the constructors and walk across the view of the drop down to the ground below. I huddled the family around me and took a photo of the drop through our feet as proof that we all stood there.
To my right, my eldest daughter, pretty much a copy of myself she has my eyes, my pointy chin and high cheekbones, also my head of really thick hair although mine is light ginger and her’s is dark blonde. Her face is softened by her father’s round cheeks (mine is softened by too many cream cakes) and she most definitely gets her long legs from my husband’s side of the family. Her mannerisms match mine too, lots of hand gestures to accompany a never-ending stream of words, and she is very much the optimist; good things happen to her because she expects them too.
Next is my husband in his sturdy boots. He had dark hair and deep dark brown eyes with really long eyelashes (notice the slight envy here). His hair is thinning now and his eyes aren’t quite so dark but they’re still the window to his thoughts and demand your full attention when they hold you in their gaze. Ever the pessimist, he would call himself a realist and like his sturdy boots, he is the firm foundation in our family; holding fast while the girls grow and build for themselves.
To my left is my middle daughter, she is a copy of my husband. The same dark hair and brown eyes, the same “realist” attitude to life. They both put a lot into life … and expect a lot out. Second best is just not an option. Her size and shape are my contribution, shorter legs and a dainty frame, reminding me very much of me when I was a teenager (before I ate too many cream cakes). There’s a bit of a lull in her life at the moment, but I have no doubt that she will get where she’s going because she’s going to make it happen.
One more person left to complete the family circle, the smallest pair of trainers, my youngest daughter. A combination of both my husband and myself, she has my husbands facial features and his fiery need to make himself heard and understood as well as his stubbornness and fierce loyalty. She displays my colouring with the thick blonde hair and pale complexion along with my organised chaotic ways and optimistic outlook. She is just going with the flow at the moment but as soon as she knows what she wants I’m confident she will grab it with both hands and dig her heels in until she gets it.
Then there’s me, in the boots and long black coat. (I loved those boots, I wore them until they eventually disintegrated on my feet). I think I’m pretty easy-going, I tend to go with the flow. My usual answer to a problem is “something will turn up” and something usually does (although my husband insists I’m pretty high maintenance and something usually turns up because he’s made it happen). I’m happy in my little world, I don’t think there’s much I would change if I had the chance, except for maybe less calories in the cream cakes and maybe …
Grandchildren ! That would be good! 🙂