‘I was having a good laugh at these,” says my mother when I pop in on my way to work. She’s on the sofa, surrounded by heaps of paper, mainly fading pages from exercise books. They are the letters sent to her in hospital when she badly injured her arm – all are written by the children she used to help with reading. “I like it when you talk about the scwirils,” says one, and all have multicoloured pictures of the animals and insects she always talked about. “I miss you loads,” they all say.

Read more: http://www.theguardian.com/lifeandstyle/2008/feb/23/familyandrelationships6