The things you ponder.....

Someone very dear to me gave me a present, ages ago. It was in a bag of other goodies and its a very simple thing. A drinks coaster.

It has that famous quote from Georges Sands above a too cute picture........:

"The only happiness in life is to love and be loved."

I have love for many but it seems that it is returned by few.

Who wants a man whose life expectancy is not terribly long?

The prospects for love do not seem to be huge.

I will remain open to the world, will force myself to do just that, striking out on my own on the water with nothing but a hull and a laptop for company in the hope that it may bring some perspective, some peace, some time for healing of all sorts.

Once my son has gone there will be nothing for me here.

A funny old life

A funny old life....

So what do you do after you have coped with your NHS administered death sentence. Once you have picked yourself up, accepted the premise, tried to unstick your melted head and deal with the people around you (badly as it turned out in my case) - what do you do.....

You try to find purpose and reason to continue to get up in the morning.

You aim for things that you will be able to do soon, and push yourself until you can. You aim for other things, further away in time, more ambitious.

You lose your fear of death........

I one sense, this is a liberating opportunity, a chance to go and see things, meet people, that I would not otherwise have been liable to make the time to see.

Unfortunately, my support group has exploded.

My son is leaving home soon, as is right and proper - he has his own way to make in the world.

My ex wife is now with my best friend (or the man I thought to bestow that title on).

I must sell my house. I shall buy a narrowboat and live on that, spend the rest of my time out and about, abroad.

Of all the mistakes I made over the last few weeks, an email sent on the 3rd of September is probably the worst. I cut off the link with someone I loved, someone who loved me. There was little chance, it seemed to me, that anything material would come of it that would benefit her - who needs to be in love with someone who is going to die soon and who cannot be with you, it just makes it harder - so I bit the bullet, pulled the plug, called it off. Better for her, I thought. The right thing to do, my conscience told me.

Stupid bastard.

A Reflection, An Oath, An irony

"Be careful what you wish for", is a thought that has struck me many times recently, when recalling the following monologue:

"TEOTA

A perfect profile in the dim lamplight, she sleeps. I take a picture with my mind, capture the moment.

The scent of the rumpled sheets, the sight picture as a snapshot, the feel of the skin of her smooth cheek on the back of my hand, her hair spread like a fan of red snakes on the pillow, a faint smile upon her lips.

A taxi, tears, a hurried goodbye, not wanting to prolong the pain that both feel. She is gone, my lover no more.

So I turn, run. On and on. To the top of the hill overlooking the river, in the sight of others, where we never walked hand in hand together, as the sun beams down. My tears glinting highlights, reflected in the expressions of the passersby, some dismissive, some frightened, some compassionate at the public display of emotion.

Stood, wide stanced on a park bench, the land spread out before me – dog walkers glancing at the obvious foreign madman as he greets the sun of a new day, arms outstretched, face to the sun, tear tracks gleaming.

An airliner, trailing white appears out of the top of the church spire overhead, far up

It will miss the sun but not by much.

The song ends.

I walk back, breathing deeply.

Life – you will give me more or you will end me. No other choices. Mine are made. I am alive"

Early morning sunlight

I sit here in my greenhouse, cheating slightly with a small heater, watching the world in the early morning light.

The sky is a piercing ice blue, a few contrails litter it but most are fuzzy, dissipated - the effects of man's hand disappearing from sight.

The bricks, where sunlit, are warm, red and radiant. They lend their hues to their shaded cousins who wait impatiently for the gentle caress of infra red.

There is still much that is green here and the light shows it to good advantage, the now huge fuchsia continues to bloom like mad, light pink droplet like flowers carpet the patio.

There is joy to be had in in the world. Which is why I spend my mornings out here, when I can.

A Funny Old Life