Standing in the garden light rain spitting on my face I puffed a roll-up and thought my whole life has been a series of days
When I was baby I slept a lot and then I was awake I had no idea that I was alive let alone that life was series of days
As an infant I woke in the morning and stayed awake all day till it was time to sleep again if I was lucky in my way
As a child I knew each day was different There were good days and there were bad but most days were just days when nothing happened.
I became a teenager and getting through each day could be a struggle at times. Some days were milestones along the way.
As an adult I found that I could count on some days being great, like the day I got married, the day I started a job or the day I moved into my first house.
I asked myself: 'how many days I have I been alive?' Simple: that's just 365 times 67 that's 24,455 as of now. That's seems like a lot. Wow!
Most are just ordinary days, average days when little happens but then there are the big days the ones I will always remember.
I do not remember the day I was born. I shall not remember the day that I die. But in between there are so many and some I would prefer to forget.
Some I have written down in diaries others I have photos to remind me. Some I have souvenirs to keep and some are vague, mysterious recollections.
Each has a set routine of waking up doing a lot of things again that were the same as yesterday and then something happens...
something big that stands out from all the rest when life went off on a different path (sometimes these are some of the best) and some are just an incredible laugh.
But some are steeped in sadness, tears, regret, unmet ambitions lost longings, unrequited desires and moments of astonishing madness.
But as you draw nearer to death each day is an astounding success not just because you are still alive but because you add it to all the rest.