Welcome one and all to my beach hut

Grab a deck chair, Tea or coffee and help yourself to a buiscuit but you'd better mind the seaguls or they'll grab them first. Just look at that view and doesn't the sea look inviting.

Tuesday, 24 July 2012

Time Marches On


It as been some time since I last posted a blog here and its not that I have run out of things to post about. There will be times in everyone’s life when pressing or unforeseen events seem to take full control of your time to the exclusion of all else and I have had two such events come together unexpectedly over the last three months.

I have been contemplating the progress of time recently and there are many mystery’s attached to it. When we are young time seems to us to go very slow. Time must seem agonisingly slow for a young infant unable to move and fend for itself and even once we have learnt to crawl we are even more impatient for the time we can stand, walk and run. During our formative years time drags for so many. We can’t wait for school holidays to arrive then not long after we wish it was time to finally put our schooling years behind us, we long to meet someone of the opposite sex, for that first kiss and eventually to settle down with someone. We long for the time when we can get our first wheels whether they are four or just three, it seems at this age that time always drags. Once we have married, got a home and start raising a family our time always seems so full. Every moment of the day seems to be full of chores and we seem to have to work very hard to find any time for ourselves. Then something very strange happens, just when you finally loose all your shackles because the family have grown up and left home and you look forward to retiring from work, time seems to move up a gear and you find that even though you have less demands on your time there never seems time to do all the things that you always wanted to do. Because of the aging process things take longer to do and some days it seems that time is going far to fast.

I can recall the time when I was a boy and each year I would go away for a whole week to the seaside. It always seemed to me that the first half of the week went slowly and there was plenty of time to enjoy all the pleasures associated with the seaside but once Wednesday had gone by the final three days would be all a blur and before you knew it you were on the station waiting for the train to take you home. What kind of illusion is this and why does it seem to re-occur in the cycle of life.

I mentioned at the start of this blog that two things had happened that had taken over my time in recent days. The more pressing of the two was the recent death of my father in his 90th year. What can you say about the closing of someone’s life, the words of him having a good innings spring to mind, being born in 1922 he had seen many changes and experienced many exciting events of history. He had served his country by joining the RAF in 1939 but due to unsatisfactory eyesight had to take a ground post. However he was still able to be involved in the action, during the Battle of Britain he was stationed at Biggin Hill and later served in Europe after D Day before being shipwrecked after the troop ship he was travelling on was torpedoed, which must have been a terrifying experience for dad considering he couldn’t swim. Dad spent most of his working life as a bus conductor, first off working for Barton’s in there Long Eaton depot and then for 20 years working for London transport which from story’s my father told could have been a very hazardous job at times. My father always wanted to reach 90 and we made what he said was the best day of his life by organising a small party for him at is sheltered housing complex in Peterborough in February ( see photo above with dad surrounded by is friends at Millfield House). Seeing to the closure of a person’s life is both an emotional and tiring experience. Travelling between Skegness and Peterborough during is short illness in hospital and then seeing to all the arrangements that need to be done after death is time consuming and energy sapping. Dad only lived in a one bedroom flat within the sheltered housing complex, he only had is pension to live on and so there was very little to pass on. Most of his possessions were great usefulness to his daily life but of very little monetary value to others. The most valuable assets to me were finding his RAF medals and a few photograph’s which I will treasure and most of all the memories I will have of times with him.

What do you say to close the life of someone who has lived to a good age, that he ran a good race or he stayed the course. What will be the reward no one can tell because none of us knows the rules? Time does march on and all you can hope for in this life is that you can live it out honestly and long to the end. I am reminded of the words of Shakespeare the world is a stage:

All the world's a stage,
And all the men and women merely players:
They have their exits and their entrances;
And one man in his time plays many parts,
His acts being seven ages. At first, the infant,
Mewling and puking in the nurse's arms.
And then the whining school-boy, with his satchel
And shining morning face, creeping like snail
Unwillingly to school. And then the lover,
Sighing like furnace, with a woeful ballad
Made to his mistress' eyebrow. Then a soldier,
Full of strange oaths and bearded like the pard,
Jealous in honour, sudden and quick in quarrel,
Seeking the bubble reputation
Even in the cannon's mouth. And then the justice,
In fair round belly with good capon lined,
With eyes severe and beard of formal cut,
Full of wise saws and modern instances;
And so he plays his part. The sixth age shifts
Into the lean and slipper'd pantaloon,
With spectacles on nose and pouch on side,
His youthful hose, well saved, a world too wide
For his shrunk shank; and his big manly voice,
Turning again toward childish treble, pipes
And whistles in his sound. Last scene of all,
That ends this strange eventful history,
Is second childishness and mere oblivion,
Sans teeth, sans eyes, sans taste, sans everything.

Time does march on but I hope to have a little more time to devote to this blog in the future and I hope that you all continue to enjoy reading it, where ever you are.