Saturday and the co-codamol I took last night did the the trick and got me through the night after I had crashed out. My partner came into the spare room (or Roland’s nurture room) for our usual Saturday morning chat and drink. As a family we are handling a lot at the moment so having time to talk and reflect lie this is crucial. While I go through my getting up rituals my partner makes me a bacon bagel, a Saturday treat, which I eat in the lounge. Today is drug wallets day. I have all my medications out and my drugs wallets opened so that I can prepare my pill intake for the next two weeks. Its a tedious and slow job but one that is helpful in making sure I keep everything on track. I have a nagging headache which I am becoming more aware of as the morning goes on so I eventually turn off all the screens around me and take some paracetamol. Alexa plays me meditation music and I let myself drift in and out of sleep while the pain killers get to work.

My doze takes me to about two o’clock when I wake up feeling a bit more human. Having indulged in a fondant fancy, made myself comfortable and recorded my output I settle down to draft the blog. My partner has gone for lunch with an old friend. My inactivity has meant that I have not written or recorded letters to friends recently. I do not like this feeling of inattention to my friends, it feels as if I am being lazy and not making the effort that relationships require. I thought about writing an open letter here but it is not what I think I need to do, which is to make the effort and either go to the Shed and write or record more audio letters. While I am thinking about this I get the news that my youngest grandson is being discharged from hospital today. This is great news and means the family, who have all been ill over the last few days can finally be back together again.

The day continues with a first draft of the blog and some thoughts about writing something. There is an unread quarterly poetry review yet to be discovered and some thought to the difficult question of what I might want for my birthday. I am truly lucky, I have a garden and a library of books. I am loved and cared about: what more could a chap want. On reflection celebrating my birthday at this age is less meaningful than being recognised on Fathers day. Being alive is relatively easy, the alternative of not being is nothing, or will be nothing to do with me, however being told that I am loved as a father and a grand father seems to be a more valuable acknowledgement of what I’ve done with my life than just being born. So I am coming round to the idea that I would scrap birthday celebrations and celebrate parenting days as being more meaningful. Of course those without children or families could go on celebrating their own birthdays as achievement or growth days, perhaps even survival days. Alternative perhaps birthdays should become “birthing days” where everyone involved could acknowledge the process of the creation of new life and all of those involved, it would include ancestors and deceased parents. It feels that this would provide more “depth” to the celebrations. Our house has a spirit home outside it. I put it up after a holiday to Thailand, where all the houses had a spirit house outside to house the spirts of the families dead ancestors. I am not sure why I did it at the time but now I kind of get it. It acknowledges the continuity of family and the interconnectedness of family members, past, present and perhaps those to come.

All of the above is all very well and fine but does not answer the question “what do you want for your birthday”, or perhaps it does. Perhaps all I want is to go on feeling loved and cared about and that does not need presents and cards, just inclusion in peoples thoughts and actions occasionally. By mid afternoon my youngest grandson is out of hospital and back home with his mum and dad. It seems everyone is tired and in desperate need of as much rest as possible.

I grab a bite for late lunch and prepare for the first knockout matches in the European Cup this evening. First kick off is at 5 o’clock and then another at eight o’clock. This is where things get tasty and go all the way to penalties occasionally. No doubt I shall droop as the evening goes on. As it turns out that is exactly what happens. I take my night meds and fix myself up for the night and try to get some sleep.