I am the echo of my parents. Their DNA resonates through me, vibrates through my children and strikes a beautiful chord in my grandchildren. I echo my parents names, Joan for mum, and dad was Francis, I am Joan Frances. My nephew Nick is the echo of my father at 18, the same lopsided smile, and that echo bounces off his younger brother, Will, who so young, already has some of my fathers features. My half sister is the echo of my mother, so like her that I could almost think I was talking to mum at times, if not for the difference in eye colour. I echo my mothers even temper, which strikes a note in my eldest daughter, before reverberating off my eldest son. My mum and dad are not gone. Echos of them and their parents and theirs, and so on, surround me everyday and will be passed down forever through the amphitheatre of our lives creating a beautiful melody, the original note no longer heard, but the symphony it created apparent everywhere.
