I have been thinking a lot about life and death just recently and my own mortality. I am not sure if that’s because I’ve been spending a lot of time with Sue of late whose own loss and grief is almost as raw as it was 6 months ago but I don’t think so. Thoughts of life and death and the big ‘C’ have been part of my life for the last few years; first up was losing John to stomach cancer, then my friend Jess who lost her battle with ovarian cancer, then Phil’s diagnosis with prostrate cancer and last, but by no means least, was Alan with his diagnosis of terminal kidney cancer. And that’s not all, there’s Jim’s mum and dad and Alfie, who is, by all second hand accounts, at least winning his fight with a brain tumour. Cancer is everywhere you turn and I don’t think it’s unusual or strange for me to thinking about it or indeed my own mortality. Especially when you get to a certain age, and have friends of a similar age who also have parents who are at least 20 years you’re senior. Mortality, and not just your own, is bound to be part of every day thoughts.
Or at least it is in my little mind. But I am sure I am not alone, because after all, we are all dying, it’s just a case of when and whether sooner versus later. Anyway, all these thoughts and it got me thinking about me and how I would feel if I were to be diagnosed with some incurable cancer and given a certain short time to live. Sure, I would feel mad at first and probably a little sad for a bit, but you know what, I don’t think I would be too devasted. And the reason is, put quite simply, is that I have had a good innings, and to be honest, I’m surprised I have lasted this long. For those that don’t know me that well, that’s 46 years to date. To round the numbers up, I’d probably prefer to make to half a century but that’s just a number thing. Of course, the last 10 years with Phil have been the best, but that said, I’ve also packed a lot in to my 46 years. Yes, there’s a few things that I would change, a few regrets but not too many because I think that the things that you’ve messed up on make you the person you are today and those experiences are memories, whether good or bad ( or plain ugly). No, safe to say, there’s not much I would change. If my time is up, then it’s up and I wouldn’t change it for the world. I consider myself lucky overall, I have loved and I have lost, I have had fine wines (lots of) and seen a good bit of the world. I have giggled, danced until my feet hurt and partied hard. Maybe a few bad things that I would prefer to forget but if I were to score me out of 10, then I’d give me a 9+.
The only thing that I do regret is the fact that I am a fairly unremarkable person, for want of a better abjective, average would be how I describe myself. Not beautiful but not certainly ugly enough that I want to vomit every time I see myself in the bathroom mirror every morning. Not huge, but then again, not stick insect or that size 6 that I would like to be. As for intelligence, that is sorely lacking, I lucked out badly in that gene pool. I have never had high powered jobs or earnt good money, I have never project managed or been a boss. In fact, I go as far to say, that the good jobs that I have managed to get, I have blagged or blatantly lied to get, all the time whilst in post, feeling a fraud and being afraid anytime that I’d be found out. Actually that never happened, I’ve never been fired or been made redundant or actually really badly failed, hah I got by with the skin of my teeth. Certainly good fortune has been on my side in that they never found me out!All that said, I think my biggest disappointment with me is that I never had any real talent or none that I discovered. I can’t sing, I can’t play an instrument and I don’t speak another language. I can’t paint (well you can’t count emulsion on walls), I’m not a member of MENSA; there’s a mountain of things that I can’t do and I suppose what it all boils down to, is that I have no special skills. I was always hopeful that I would uncover some talent but at the ripe old age of 46, I am resigned to the fact that it’s not going happen. Not now or never. I don’t’ have any special hidden talents. You won’t see me on X-factor (I'm thinking of Susan Boyle), you won’t see me in print (unless it’s a scandal). The bottom life is, if I were to pass this earth tomorrow, you wouldn’t miss me, because I am unremarkable.
In case you’re wondering what the point of this posting is, or what the message I am trying to get across, please, simply give up now, because there is no point or message. This is simply me sharing my clairabella, crazy and somewhat self-indulgent thoughts of the Saturday night. What’s brought this on you may well ask and the answer to that is, that I am really not so sure. Well actually that’s not strictly true; earlier today I clicked on to one of the blogs that I follow daily; it made me a little sad and it got me thinking. http://alrighttit.blogspot.com/
What has the beautiful author, 31 year old Lisa Lynch, done so bad in this world that warrants that her time is up? Breast cancer, bone cancer and a brain tumour. Terminal, , game over. And more importantly, why does an old wrinkley wino like me get to stick around to tell the tale??? It doesn’t make sense or at least I don’t think it does.
So many questions; I am not contemplating the universe, nah, I’m certainly intelligent enough for that but sometimes it makes you wonder. I have racked my brains to think of my personal talents and they are as follows, (in no particular order): a) I can probably drink most people under the table, b) I type at 75 wpm and c) I can speed read. And that’s about it. What’s so sad about these particular talents is that they are so spectacularly unimportant and the stark fact is, that they have no impact on the world. In my next life, I have decided that I’m definitely coming back as a bloke and more significantly, I’m coming back with a talent!
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