I’m eighty-five, have been for five months. Struggling against insomnia at 03.30 I sensed a symmetry about 85. Clarity descended, I understood my life and the events surrounding it. I had made five or six important decisions during those years and all had turned out well. I had been quickly drawn to VR and we had married precipitately; two procreative acts in the mid-sixties had led to the foundations of a family and I saw all its members in their sharp individuality.
In a wider sense I recognised that Trump was (is?) horrid but perfectly understandable. That the pandemic is merely the continuation of mankind’s constant attempts to come to terms with natural forces. The previous evening I’d watched a Parisian TV series and relished its Frenchness. We polished off a 30-year-old sherry and I recalled – smugly – I’d been explicit about its attractions in an email.
Understanding oneself – as opposed to recreating memories without trying to interpret them – is a rare gift and quickly fades. Bad things must also be included. I’d been chatting and needed to refer to a builder’s skip; I could see the skip but couldn’t recall the word. Tip? Pit? Was that a cold chill or a fatalistic admission that at 85 such glitches are likely? I hope the latter.
Learning to sing touched on aspects of my make-up I didn’t know existed. I have deliberately sought out difficult books and forced myself to write intelligently about them. My perceptions about language have resembled a dialogue with a twin conjoined at the hip. Most of my progress has been self-driven and has not depended on formal education. I am regularly insensitive to others’ feelings. I find it hard to believe I may be loved.
Life is more fun than I tend to let on.
I find you unique in a world filled with insensitive and self-centered men. Not that you don't share those qualities at times. You are refreshingly self-aware, so I assume you will not be insulted by this comment. I think what "saves" you has to do with your journalistic skills. You listen, you consider what others say or think. You ask questions to find out more. That doesn't stop you from telling your truth, but it is usually a truth based on actually listening and thinking. That gives you an edge. Your comments on my blog have been informative, useful, and so often entertaining. I look forward to hearing what you have to say.
ReplyDeleteColette:That's very kind (and frank!) of you and I think you may have touched on something I didn't mention here but which deserves inclusion. When I write - as I do at this very moment - I concentrate on structure and style as much as the subject I hope to communicate. This is not necessarily a good thing since I may end up confusing the reader which is unforgivable. On the other hand, by taking this stance I'm more likely to end with a piece that seems - perhaps even is - original, that doesn't merely recycle that which has been said many times before. And, since all forms of writing are selfish in one way or another, it may encourage any potential commenter to adopt the same approach. As it has done with you. To our mutual satisfaction. Bravississima!
DeleteIf I live to be 85 I hope I am as smart, erudite, interesting, and creative as you are. Oh yes, and as sharply perceptive and wryly funny. Not that I am any of those things now, but a girl can dream.
ReplyDeleterobin andrea: This may seem as if I'm biting the hand that feeds me but bear with me. To say, however casually, that you are not smart, erudite, interesting, creative, sharply perceptive and wryly funny, is the first essential step towards becoming those things. Self-examination, even when it is demonstrably faulty as yours is here, takes you into a region which most people never inhabit throughout the whole of their lives. All that remains for you now is to take the second and subsequent steps. On y va.
DeleteMany of the Women on Mom's side made it to their 80's, so perhaps I'll have the genetics and good fortune to? My Welsh Uncle, Mom's Older Brother, is 88. I am glad Life is full and more Fun than you let on... that's how it should be.
ReplyDeleteBohemian: Two sad facts: I'm not a woman (unless I've been seriously misinformed) and I fear the Welsh are dying in skads just over the border, a few miles down the nearby A465.
ReplyDeleteWell, I am a mere chicken at 82 but wish I could think so clearly and record it thus next morning when I have an insomniatic night, RR.
ReplyDeleteI think that Colette's comment above so echos my own thoughts about you that I would only be repeating them in my own words.
Of all my blogger "correspondents" yours are the comments I look forward most to reading. You consider deeply and write entertainingly. I have often taken a pace back from something you have written to me, but it causes me to consider and see your cogent view.That is not "insensitive", but valuable.
Although "love" is not the word I would use about you I do give you my respect and affection. Blogging without you would be the lesser.
Thank you.
Avus: Oh wow! And I've been so cruel over the years - all that unpleasant stuff about heat distribution in the cylinder head of a Squariel.
DeleteThanks for that. You've raised another interesting point. When we post a blog we address the anonymous world. But when we comment or re-comment the target is specific. Does the style of writing change? Probably. Certainly we draw on different vocabularies for different audiences. You, for instance, are the only member of my contact list capable of responding to the word Squariel. Seriously though, continuing to use you as an example, I slip into a different frame of mind, a different enthusiasm; the techno universe (others as well, of course). Often the sudden switch brings up new thoughts, new ideas.
Must break off and switch on Skype. V will be appearing in seven minutes and there are the difficulties of Weep You No More Sad Fountains to be chewed over.
I am honestly touched.
Your post made me smile. You make plodding on, sound like fun or at least a pleasant trip! Sandi
ReplyDelete