When we lose somebody we love, certain days take on special meanings for us. Birthdays, anniversaries, Christmas etc all become so much more than just days. These are the days when we don’t want to be with other people and just want to wallow in memories and maybe self-pity. But after many years of this, one suddenly realises that yes these are just days.
Today is my Dashing Young Scotsman’s birthday. Had he lived he would be 83 years old. I ask myself how would I feel living with an 83-year-old and answer great. Every year on this day since his sudden death in 1998, I have spent time only with the family. In the beginning, the small boys helped bring me out of the “slough of despair” and I was so very grateful to them and their parents.
But yesterday I decided that enough was enough. November 1 is just another day and as I remember my DYS every day of the year, I don’t need to make this day any different or any more special.
But this is a special day as this is the first day of the rest of my life. and so…A few months ago I wrote a poem which I think sums up where I am now and how I choose to live the rest of my life –
My lot is cast
In different places
Not beside the river or the ocean
But in the city with its life and vitality.
Not in the distant years of my youth
Nor the busy years of family life
But the peaceful years of time for me
To enjoy friends and family.
Time to investigate new things
New activities and new friends
Time to be me.