Hey,
things are okay I suppose, could be worse. Every Wednesday the grandchildren visit us here at the home. Those damn brats and their stories. Stories woven with wonder, mystery and intrigue.  Those stories which hint at lives overflowing with opportunity. Opportunities from which they squeeze every last drop of well, life. Enthusiasm and optimism untarnished by age.

I dread their visits, not because I detest the kids but simply through their words, thick with emotion and passion, my own life is reflected to me. Laid out before me side by side against the life they have before them I can't shake that feeling I failed.



Sure if you're comparing bank accounts then I'm rich, rich enough to afford the dubious luxury of staying in this damn home, rich enough to have someone else wipe my ass until the day I die, rotting away in this non-reclining orange-peel textured plastic chair. From my bed to this chair I'll be shuttled by a nurse until death comes for me.



Sure I had opportunities but I never commited, I never chased my passions. I squandered my precious years with a silk noose around my neck. It was Hugo Boss if you're wondering, but nobody ever did and the label was on the back anyways. I told myself that other people could tell; that those in the know, the ones who mattered, would recognise I bought the best. Maybe it worked because I climbed the ladder easily enough but it was a case of more money more problems, more money less time.



I was convinced that one day I'd have the time and cash to be brave, be free of the shackles and I'd set sail for foreign ports, meet foreign girls, have grand adventures like in the movies. These children and their dreams remind me every wednesday that I've more time than ever to chase my own. All day, all week, all year. This mind is ready but this body is withered, frail and out of steam. I can't help but feel the reward I was promised for all the years grinding away in the 9-5 just never came. Where's my gold watch, my fat payout?



It's not my fault though, I followed the rules and played it safe. How was I supposed to know? I guess adventures are just a game for the young. See you Friday morning for tea and crumpets?
ds
-dsankt, 2011