Grannie turns 99

Grannie is ninety-nine! She had a birthday afternoon tea yesterday in the lounge at her rest home. My Aunt organised a display of photographs, letters, old school books, special pieces of clothing and other mementos. It was lovely. Grannie is not always that with it, but she actually seemed to know exactly what was happening. At the end as she was wheeled off back to her room we joked about her next birthday, and what a party that would be. She chortled and said "oh yes!" with a smile. A year and a bit ago we didn't even know if she would make it to ninety-eight. And here she is, on her victory lap towards one hundred.

There are so many things now that she can't tell us. So many memories she can no longer access. So many thoughts and feelings that she hardly had words for before, let alone now. I watch her and I realise how complicated getting old can be. Our past doesn't disappear off into the distance as we age. Often it's the opposite of that. We carry our past with us like an old backpack. Each year it gains a bit more weight.  If we never inspect its contents, or take a stock-take every now and then to discard perished goods, then we end up bent under the weight of it. I don't want to get to ninety-nine and carry that weight. I can't guarantee I'll have the mental or emotional capacity to deal with it then.

Tomorrow at 12:51pm our nation is observing two minutes of silence. We don't need to remember the awful disaster that occurred a week ago, it has not left us for a moment. Our minds will go over the images of dust and rubble and broken bodies. We will think of those lost, those still missing, and those who have been shaken to the core in every sense of the word. We will weep.

In that moment, we would do well to save a few thoughts for ourselves. To be thankful for whatever mercies we have received, however great or small; and to consider how we will spend the rest of whatever life we have in front of us. This is not narcissism, or meaningless introspection. This is a sober, circumspect and entirely appropriate response.

It's the first day of autumn tomorrow. I've been shutting the windows at night as the air cools and thinking of the other side of the world. Spring is theirs. It seems like just the other day that we were complaining of the heat. Summer has gone too fast.