An Occasion of Much Moment.

It’s my daughter’s birthday today and I was struck by how quickly the intervening years have passed by. I remember the event well enough, though – being woken up shortly after going to sleep, the drive to the hospital, the sitting around on a sofa feeling bored but not particularly tired (men didn’t go into the delivery room in those days; delivery rooms were female spaces only, which was how I preferred it.) I remember the nurse saying ‘would you like to come and meet your daughter’, and I remember driving home on a cloud in the cool of the early morning. It was the most momentous night of my life.

I remember the squidgy little proto-human which grew into the most delightful little girl for a few years, followed by the trials consequent upon growing up further, and then more growing up until the message came back: ‘Sorry I was a pain. Thanks for forgiving me. You’re the only man I ever really trusted, you know.’

And such is life, and here I am growing old and awaiting the results of a CT scan to indicate whether I have much of a prospect of further future. They say time is an illusion, and I wish I could work out exactly what that means.