Full Circle

I met my family yesterday for lunch. A rare treat indeed. They all live many leagues hence from my place of travail, so catching up with one another was the fun thing of the week. Walking arm-in-arm with with Mum, Sister and Dad, pointing them in the general direction of lunch had me beaming from ear to ear.

After lunch, when all family news was expended, and lunch was weighing heavily upon my burgeoning waistline, we decided to have a stroll through the melee of an antiques fair, just browsing, chatting.

I discovered a wonderful thing. I'm turning into my Father. Walking a few paces behind him, I could see the gait, the demeanour, the smile for each stallholder, the wit and most of all the interest in the exact same stalls as me.

First rootling around the auto-memorabilia, then the philatelists corner, then looking at the antique jewellery, it was an absolute revelation.

Some folk my age might feel concerned about such things as growing old.

I don't now.

Because if I am half as fit, jolly and robust 31 years hence, as my own Father is now, I have got something to look forward to.

The orchestra always have one eye on the Conductor, even when performing a solo movement. That's as it should be.

Well, even though the leader of my band is growing more tired, and his eyes are growing old - his blood runs though my fingertips, and his song is in my soul.

Sergei