precious

Got some sad news on the chippy, that the driver I used to swap nights with, George, has died aged 65.

I was gobsmacked. I'd seen him a few weeks ago, and he looked right as rain. Apparently, he had a massive heart attack and never recovered.

I'm fascinated with retirement. I mean, I'm nowhere near that time myself, but I know people who are, or have. And the thing I've learnt is you've got to keep going, and keep yourself active and amused.

For instance, Ian is 65 very soon, and not long ago I was urging him to retire. This was in the middle of G.B going under, and none of us knew what was round the corner. My exact words to him were, "Why do you want to put up with all this shit????"

And part of his answer was he didn't want to "vegetate" and die of having nothing to do. The folk coming up to retirement now are the Baby Boomers of the post-war period. They're still fighting fit, and have more energy and go than we give them credit for. As the generation after them, I've learnt so much from their example and experience.

I feel that George died prematurely, but I don't think he let himself just stare at the walls. I suspect he kept living life to the full?

Maybe, regardless of your age, you just can't win? Me Dad was 47.

It's a pertinent reminder, as if one's ever truly needed, of how precious life really is.