In the last two blog posts I have mentioned my father in somewhat resentful terms but I didn't resent him this morning. Picture the scene: 49 year old man lying on his bed, feeling the blues, indulging his melancholia when his father knocks on the door and asks me to do a couple of things around the house. Well I reverted back to teenage angst and said in Welsh "Beth sy'n bod nawr?" a "Dwi eisiau cael llonydd" which translated means "What is the matter now?" and in true Greta Garbo style "I want to be left alone". I felt guilty talking to a 96 year old in this manner but today has been one of those days. He, unlike me is indefatigable. Great attitude, Great Spirit. My duracell batteries are down even though I am half his age but it was his attitude and can do spirit that got me off my teenage bed this morning to do the chores around the house. I might as well be doing it for my elderly parents as for myself or someone else but this morning I woke up with a physical dread of going to the local supermarket for a food shop. I don't know whether it is the fact that it is a very public arena, where everybody can peer into your basket to see what you will be putting down the toilet or whether it is the cold, functionality of the place that gets to me. Drive, Shop, Pay, Home, Eat, Shit & Repeat. I am one of these characters who will leave the fridge bare bar some mouldy ginger until I have to be out there again. I would have made a shit hunter/ gatherer. I would have said "I am not hunter/gathering on weekends and bankholidays". I tend to sneak down in darkness, when there are less people about. I don't want to be there but people keep saying "You have to eat". No you don't have to eat at all. You can go on a fast. You can become, lean, mean and hungry. I really wanted to indulge my depression this morning. I wanted to feel hard done by and resentful but I couldn't. If a 96 year old can feel such presence, such mindfulness, then there is hope for us all.
A pair of hearty eaters
96 & 49 respectively
96 & 49 respectively
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