Neither myself or my darling wife Hannah are getting any younger. It’s 64 years since we met at a Forces dance in Ayrshire. Eyes over a crowded room and all that. I wouldn’t say we’re quite on our last waltz yet, but as someone once said, “the shadows are lengthening across the lawn”.
We’ve had a long, wonderful life together and I love her dearly. Over the years, I’ve probably been guilty of letting myself be mollycoddled. ‘Spoilt’ the kids would say. They were different times I guess. But she knows how much I love and appreciate her. She’s been an absolute rock through thick and thin. But just lately, I’ve noticed a change in her. A few people have taken me to one side and said she seems a little fragile and tired.
It’s a hard thing for me to face up to, but maybe it’s time to admit we might need help. I should probably take a leaf out of Stuart’s book and start getting my affairs in order. Plus, the future generation of our family continues to grow. Lovely grandchildren and a new one on the way. Marvellous. I’ve worked hard and made a good life for myself, but all that really matters now, apart from Hannah, is that I can pass all my good fortune onto the new green shoots of the family tree.