Contentment

In one of the many conversations I have had with old friends in the last couple of weeks I have only been asked once if there is anything I would like to have done differently. I thought, perhaps for too long, and he broke the silence by saying "you must be contented".
I can't argue with that. Certainly it would be hard to argue against the suggestion that I am one of the luckiest beggars I know. I have a good brain, which I don't use as much as I should. I can stand up and make a decent speech with reasonable aplomb. Occasionally I really make an effort and make a good speech.
The eulogy at mum's funeral was one case, although I didn't really realise the most important thing I wanted to say until I came to the end of what I had prepared. It was about love and hospitality and I still don't know if I did her justice.
Clare of course is the heart of my contentment. She brought with her two wonderful children. I can't claim much credit for the way they have turned out. They had the best mother they could have wished for, and a father who was keen to be involved. In fact throughout our courtship (is that still a word) they went to their dad most weekends allowing Clare and I the joy of children through the week and single hood at weekends.
If I have a regret about them it is that I am stepfather and not father. I was Donald and not dad, although the times where 'dad' came out were remembered and treasured.
Then of course there was Nicci's wedding day. I guess that day told me more about pride and fatherhood than any other. Kilduncan looked better than ever before or since (much of this due to James and his efforts to make the place look good.). The company from the smallest child to the oldest grandparent had fun.
Somehow Donald failed to get drunk and make an arse of himself. And around about 3am the disco was coming to an end. There were 2 still standing. The last dance was Mr and Mrs Peddie with Eric Clapton supplying the music. Wonderful moment.
And then there is Ben. Clare went back to work when he was 6 months old and I became main carer. Now actually, in the way that men and women assess their roles in relationships , I strongly suspect that all this means is that I did my fair share of childcare. It was the greatest gift I have been given. Watching Ben grow from toddler to manhood has been an unalloyed joy.
That's probably enough embarrassing the kids for one posting although I don't promise not to return to the subject.
I will just finish with one final lesson Ben's company taught me.
I had a brief flowering as a youth rugby manager. After too long standing on the touch line enjoying the sport and a few beers I actually put my hand up and helped to organise the club. The summit of this was Ben and I organising a 16 team under 18 sevens tournament. Perhaps if we knew the problems to be overcome we might not have started. But we did and I am pretty proud of our achievement.
What it taught me, though, was rather different. Perhaps most of you already know this but it took me till way after my 50th birthday to learn.
If you stand on the touch line you have a great opportunity to have a beer but if you get involved and make an effort you can drink that beer with friends (and there is usually more of it).
OK, I'm getting maudlin, humour me.
My health? Still looking and feeling fit. Still on the same 3 drugs to stop me having woo woo fits. They work!
Body thoroughly scanned and biopsied.
And now an appointment for a 'nurse led results clinic'. Next Thursday, 10th December.
Then perhaps the phoney war is over and we can start to look for the road to recovery.