It struck me yesterday already I am over a month into my 84th year and time seems to be rushing by faster than it ever has done before. It’s rather concerning. The end is creeping ever closer.
We are in lockdown, have been for weeks now. To me it makes sense, this coronavirus is spreading like wildfire, and anything that helps to keep it away from us is okay with me, as, I am told, I am one of the most vulnerable.
When I was told by Neil Smith, (surgeon) I had bowel cancer it shocked me but didn’t frighten me. I never thought it would kill me, and, so far anyway, it hasn’t. Then, a year later when I was told, by another surgeon, “Sorry Mr Thornhill, you’ve got lung cancer.” It did shock me, but it didn’t frighten. I think the reason for that is, because 90% of the time I feel fine. And everyone tells me how well I look - accompanied by comments like: “Nobody would ever believe you are 83!” All very encouraging and flattering and good for my ego, but realism soon creeps back to remind me I AM 83 and people do die at 83 and nobody would be shocked if I suddenly went in my sleep, (my preferred choice of demise). Well, I think wife Heather and brother Cyril would be if it was tonight. People would probably ask, ‘how old was he?’ And then nod and say something like oh well, a good’age.
No. The young lady was just curious.
We walked up to the The Grill and sat at the bar, both determined not to drink too much. Our conversation followed the usual pattern: we talked of Heather, money, our forthcoming trip to America, the cancer.
"How are you feeling these days?" C asked.
"Yeah, fine. I mean no different to how I felt a month ago - in fact not much different to when I was first told, and that was eight months ago."
"That's good, isn't it? I tell you, I'll go before you."
"So I'll the one that ends up rich!"
We then talked of how our estate should be left (or distributed as I described it) by the last man standing, as it were. "If it's me, I'll probably make it percentages, you know. 5% to him 10% to her and so on."
We moved on putting the world to right, talked of Putin's invasion of Ukraine last Wednesday and how, it seems, he is not doing as well as he hoped, there seems to be more resistance than was expected. But, as some eminent person once said, "The first casualty in war is Truth." So who knows what is actually going on?
Then a girl, spoke to me, the bar, by now, was crowded and noisy and I couldn't understand what she was saying. She was young, pretty I had to ask her several times the question before I understood her. "What football team do you support?" she had asked.
Manchester United, I told her. She asked why and we got into a conversation, that included C. She was curious about us. What are two guys like you doing here was the basis of her curiosity.
"Like you?" I asked - "what do you mean 'like you?'"
"Well , I mean,`' she waved towards