Well, that was a shock. Obviously I know it’s your birthday, I don’t think I will ever forget that, but this year I thought I’d leave the blog post out. I see so many posts on social media where people talk to or about the dearly departed who can’t even read what they’re writing and I’m very conscious of the fact that once a year, (twice if you count what happens in 10 days) I become that person.
And I am that person again right now.
The thing is though, it just hit me that you would have been 60 today. Bloody well 60! Firstly, that shocks the life out of me because I still associate being 60 with people who are the generation above you and secondly because you’re 30-and-a-bit years older than me. If you’re now 60, I’ll soon be 30. If I’m nearly 30, I’m almost the age you were when I was born. All of this is messing with my head. How has that happened?
If I’m brutally honest, I think I wrote this post mainly to express my disgust at how old we’ve become; I probably should wish you many happy returns but you can’t hear me so I’ll stick with the disgust. I would also like to ask why it is that I’ve morphed into you in the last year. Did that happen to you too? Did you suddenly scale up from a size 8 to a size 12 when you were in your late 20s? I know you were a 12 but you told me you used to be a 8. When did that change? Is it reversible?
Anyway, I diverge. What I should have said is Happy Birthday. What I still mean is: fuck me, you’d be 60 if you were here!
Love you always xxx