He was overdue. A home birth. A first-born. His poor mother, she never complained nor forgot.
The centre of their universe, it took him months to realise there was more than one universe, because, in common with all infants, he began life on the outside feeling nothing but his instinctive desires. It never crossed his mind that there was an other.
He was only wanting.
From North Circular Road in Limerick to 13 Waterloo Road in Dublin to 54 FitzJohn’s Avenue & 10 Gayhurst Road in London to Bradford-upon-Avon in Wiltshire to Bath – and today in Cork.
“You haven’t changed much” resonated – as he contemplated in the kitchen he shared with dog, cat, wife & daughter.
“You’ve saught attention all your life. You’ll go to your grave (or cremation) still seeking even more attention.”
He swallowed tea from a mug decorated with a rooster. It was tepid by now.
The blueberries on top of his moist muesli – fat, firm and fruity.
It was 1st of October 2020, a day to celebrate his ongoing maturity. “Others haven’t survived. Thank goodness some of us have.”
Already he’d treated himself to a slow getting-out-of-bed. A bit of Twitter, Facebook, WhatsApp, RTE News, BBC News, and Social Audio.
A shower, shave, and fresh underpants – it was a day for distinctive action. He had a personality worth appreciating, and ruminating on.
However, he was shocked when he entered the kitchen. So wrapped up in himself that it never crossed his mind that anyone would take him seriously.
“I was half-joking when I said this October was my birthday month.”
The person who’d sent the tall plant – that sat on the cream tiles – had blown him away, lifted him up, and left him blinking.
“Is it plastic or growing? For me or my wife?” – as he fingered the giant variegated leaves, and stalks.
He ripped open the blue envelop.
“Happy Birthday You Silver Fox” the card announced. ‘
From Bath to Cork with baby Grace 