The immovable markers in one’s life.
Today, sixty years ago, my father died.
Yes, December 20th., 1956. Just five days before Christmas Day.
I had turned 12 on November 8th that year and my dear sister, Elizabeth, was then 7-years-old.
Ten years ago this very day, in other words on the fiftieth anniversary of my father’s death, something happened to me when I was living in the small South Devon village of Harberton; just three miles from Totnes. That ‘something’ started a chain of events that led to me meeting Jeannie in Mexico and us becoming married in Arizona on November 20th, 2010.
I accept that this is of little interest to you, dear reader, but I wanted to put the following ‘out there’.
December 20th will always be a poignant day, until I take my last breath.
But it will also be the most precious day in the year for, again, until I take my last breath December 20th. will always mark the start of my journey to meeting Jean.
Loving Jean and being loved so much in return is as much an immovable marker in my life as was my father’s death.
Life can offer so many twists and turns!