‘ But at my back I always hear, Time’s winged Chariot hurrying near …’ Andrew Marvell
‘What is this life if full of care,
We have no time to stand and stare……’ William Henry Davies
Been there, done that
A wardrobe full of teeshirtsHow can we count the steps along the way
How bring to mind the times that were
How mark upon a life the highs and lows
How colour in the blanks that have been left?I think it through and then I see the means
I look into my wardrobe at the clues
Find hanging there the tally of my days
A multitude of teeshirts showing me
The path well trodden and the proof
Emblazoned on the cloth the toll of years
Tales of life and love
Of laughter, and of tears.
It is only fairly recently that I have started to acknowledge that I am old. The leg giving me gyp, the creaking knee, the dodgy hearing, eyes less sharp, an old neck injury restricting head movement…………………….
I suppose it was brought home to me a couple of days ago on the bus. A young mother with her baby; probably under a year old who was looking around and reacting to the waves and smiles of the nearest passengers. A second mum boarded, child older this time – the pushchairs positioned facing each other.
The toddlers started a wordless conversation, body movements and facial expressions mirroring each other. Developing the art of communication.
So we start that journey through life, we all have a beginning and an end it is the bit in the middle that makes us who we are.
My overridng sense is a series of changes of location, of making and losing friends time and time again.
Earliest years in the Orphanage, nevertheless a happy childhood with lots of friends lost when we were fostered, then new friends and the transition to a teenager.
Grammar school in Portsmouth and then loss of my friends when we were taken to Liverpool when I was fifteen,;starting work at that age at four o’clock in the morning working for British Rail.
Had two best friends in Liverpool plus others in our cycling club’ all to be lost when I enlisted in 1960. Made some really great friends at the Depot and in the Battalion, losing some on a posting, friends made there but lost in my final posting in the Regiment.
Back into civvy street, friends made in London and Aldershot and then back to Portsmouth – scattering friends like confetti when I moved to Wales.
I have lived in several countries and visited lots of others so I have concluded I am a gypsy at heart. I have been here in Swansea now for a few months and am working on a social life and making new friends.
Feels like time to drop anchor!
Trouble is I like to wake up to new challenges and boy have I had some challenges over the years!
Someone said ‘It’s good to talk’ – that is key to life and I like to give to receive.
My philosophy is :
Is life worth the living
unless we are giving
unless we are giving
to others a partIn every surrender
to others we render
to others we render
the love of our heart.Until we are feeling
the love that gives healing
the love that gives healing
our life does not start
To be continued.
¨
© Gillygangle 2024
