That’s me

That’s me under the kitchen table eating pretty coloured dog biscuits.

That’s me winning the ‘let’s see who can push a dried pea furthest up their nose competition’ and needing surgical removal.

That’s me scouring the sea’s horizon looking out for the imminent tidal wave.

That’s me asking my mother if my dad had cried on hearing of his mother’s death.

That’s me in my brand new grammar school uniform walking by the local secondary school just as their school day has ended and many of them letting me know about their feelings of the class divide.

That’s me running faster than my dad for the first time and him smiling.

That’s me on the back of Martin’s Gold Wing in the south of France wearing only shorts, shades and shoes doing a ton – ouch.

That’s me in the photo wearing the Harlequin shirt with Jean Pierre Rives and Jean Claud Skrela looming.

That’s me getting the phone call that my dad’s dead.

That’s me helping Jim have a shower as he dies of AIDS.

That’s me thinking I could die now as I snorkel on the Barrier Reef.

That’s me dubbed the ‘silver fox’ in a match report.

That’s me rescuing my eldest daughter Fay in her red coat from the lake she’s just fallen into, unlike in ‘Don’t Look Now’.

That’s me getting home and Grace holding up her arms for me to pick her up.

That’s me watching my two daughters with another man as I go to see the psychiatrist.

That’s me in court hearing the judge give me custody.

That’s me in the sunlit woods marrying Kate.

That’s me sat in clinic being told I have cancer.

That’s me with a ‘new view’.

That’s me the sexagenarian.

That’s me and i keep on keeping on.

Love Duncan.


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