Being middle aged, and having moved around a lot, I have a many memories from different places, some going back to my early years. Mostly they're well behaved and "remain in a state of slumber" ... and sometimes one will need a little jog before it goes back to sleep.
This was the Twitter picture which triggered one of my bittersweet ones,
My wife Collette and I have been together for over 20 years now. That's so long that it's easy to take for granted. But a memory of Liverpool is enough to stir those of our early days together.
I always found dating kind of awkward until I met Collette - with her there was never any need for pretense. In came this woman with an incredible energy and personality to both match and at times complement my own. We were both incredibly passionate people, although that passion didn't always align, and could cause some rough waters at times.
It was an important relationship - she always challenged me to be more than I could, an odd mix of loving me and pushing me. But there was always in those early days a bittersweet ritual we had to live out.
Collette's parents were quite traditional, and we never wanted to upset or shock them. So although she often stayed with me, she could never stay the night, having always to be back home come the morning.
Thus in the early hours, typically around 4am, one of us would wake in the others arms, wrapped together as we were in order to share a single bed. Driving her home through the dead of night in Liverpool was always such an eerie experience - a city so vibrant during the day, so empty and desolate in those early hours. The city slept whilst two lovers prepared to farewell each other.
We rode mainly in silence, occasionally Collette ghoulishly pointing out a street corner where a gangland slaying had occurred. It was all to take our mind off the goodbyes to come. Alone in the early morning, it felt we wrote our love on the streets, as each red light in our path was an opportunity to hold her soft, warm hand in the bracing morning, or to steal another kiss while we could.
All too soon she would be home, and I'd face the lonely journey home. All the time thinking what a wonderful thing it would be to be able to wake up in the morning together. It was like living in a fairy tale - I had someone I loved and who loved me very much, but I always had to give them up before the dawn ...
These days, I like Sundays the most. Sundays there are typically no alarm clocks, no pressing reason to get out of bed. Most Sundays you'll find me awake, but lying in bed, next to Collette, and remembering how to my 25 year old self, waking in the morning next to her was all he felt he needed to make him happy.
I think one of the saddest thing about being human is we yearn so much for things, but when we get them, we so rarely get to enjoy them or appreciate them. All too often one sense of want is replaced with another - we're forever hungry and insatiable for some need.
Sometimes the right memory will help you remember how much what you have now is all you ever wanted. Find yours, and never take it for granted.
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