That’s another 6am rising. I am turning into my Dad. Shattered by nine, up at six; helped on by the calm weather and light mornings.
I don’t want to get all philosophical, but at about now I am struggling with the oncoming transition. My work, which has always been the centre of my life, still unnecessarily pervades everything I do – it’s the first thing I think of when I wake up, it is the last thing that crosses my mind when I fall asleep. And the JS has brought this into sharp focus as we complete the regime change and I help JB set herself up for her next year. But the future is almost the present and with the Easter hols only days away, being unemployed looms large. How will we cope? What will fill my thoughts when that huge chunk of worry and responsibility is no longer there? What will C and I actually do when we realise that we are not tourists but travelers? Will we slow down so much, we stop?
Am I bothered? No, sod it. We have given and given. Yes, it’s been a blast and our memories are overflowing with experience, people, friends, tough times, fun times, tears and (no where near enough) laughter. But it has taken and taken. It’s our time now. I want to paint, to strum, to walk, to run, to learn, to create and to smile. And I want to do that with C and with our family and friends. Let’s hope there’s enough of that to fill the oncoming tide of time.
Oh no, an email’s just come in………