I am 45 today. Perhaps not the Big 40, or indeed, 50 - or any later numero grande - but enough to make me wake up early and smell the coffee (then drink Roibos Tea instead). It helps that London is undergoing a Mediterranean Spring - it seems we are facing days of full sun and temperatures in the 20s. I have been taking stock lately, and I count myself lucky to be here, today. I am pleased as punch to be at this mid-stage, and still standing.
Five years ago, we all went through hell in my family as my Dad died of brain cancer. Shortly thereafter, three of my closest family members died. Then, three years ago, I received news that I had a rare condition (not one I want to write of here today, but suffice it to say I explore it in my poems these days) which changed the dreams of my wife and I forever. My heart broke, and I became very ill with esophagitis, and depression. Fortunately, my wife assembled a crack medical team, and after two years of treatment or so, I am able to w…
Five years ago, we all went through hell in my family as my Dad died of brain cancer. Shortly thereafter, three of my closest family members died. Then, three years ago, I received news that I had a rare condition (not one I want to write of here today, but suffice it to say I explore it in my poems these days) which changed the dreams of my wife and I forever. My heart broke, and I became very ill with esophagitis, and depression. Fortunately, my wife assembled a crack medical team, and after two years of treatment or so, I am able to w…