The London marathon

It's strange how something I have.never taken part in stirs so many memories.
The times, when my father was alive, the marathon going past his house. The fun we had recognising people like jimmy saville, the crazy costumes of the charity runners, my son plowed past for a few years. Then everything changed, my parents moved to Australia with my  brother, my other one went to new Zealand, I to America and later around the world several times.
The world shrinks but the marathon brings back mote settled times and our connections to London.
Ahhh, happy days.
Miss you dad, miss you brother terry, but you are with me forever.