Perspective is a wonderful thing.
It can be easy, sometimes far too easy, to get caught up in life’s moments. Moments which can provide soaring highs and plum subterranean depths of searing emotion, the true worth of these moments however, can often only be found in retrospect.
This week, life has thrown up two such examples of the above and they really couldn’t be any more different.
We’ll start with football.
Own Goal
Yes, I know, a good half of you have just switched off, either mentally or (and I feel these would be the most extreme cases) by switching off the computer and vowing never to read this blog again. I can only hope my beloved wife and proofreader, Tina, isn’t among the number plumping for option two. If truth be told, however, her appreciation of the subtleties and intricacies of the beautiful game is somewhat lacking.
For me, football is a wonderful thing. I can’t say it’s a game I’ve ever played, for obvious reasons, but I love the skill, the passion, and the ability to lose oneself in the emotion of a team’s wins and losses. This is especially evident when those wins and losses belong to the team I support. The side I cheer on. The side I’ve been in an unstable love affair with for some 30-odd years. My own Leeds United.
And this weekend we went up!
Sing When You're Winning
Friday saw us top of the league with two games to spare, a gap of 5 points to second, and 6 to third. The top two teams in the league at the end of the season were guaranteed automatic promotion to The Premier League, so that was where we wanted to be. By Saturday night, and without actually kicking a ball, we were confirmed as not only promoted, but promoted as champions to boot. I may have shouted. I may have sung. I may have got a little drunk.
The achievement (which I had neither influence nor involvement in) put me in an unassailable good mood, and Tina missed one hell of a trick, because she could probably have got just about anything out of me for that short window of time (new piano? Sure. A Takeout? Definitely! A three hour Hamilton/Wicked marathon? um… Maybe? Later?). In truth, I’m still buzzing, even now.
The second example is a little less insanely positive and definitely calls for less singing of humorous chants.
Reaction Time
This week saw an anniversary, you see. Not Tina and I's wedding anniversary (although thank-you blog for that reminder), but one of a day that changed my life in a different way. Three years ago, I’d just left hospital, and in the course of my stay there, I was told I had MS.
The exact date seems to have been lost somewhere down the line. To be fair, I had quite a lot on my mind at the time and making a note in the diary I don’t own wasn’t one of them. I remember the emotions, though. I remember Tina’s tears, my mum’s voice on the phone, and the various reactions of friends and family, ranging from shock, through anger, to sorrow. I also seem to recall not feeling too much of any of these, although a little frustration certainly reared its head somewhere down the line.
Today, the ‘Timehop’ function of Facebook tells me, was the day I shared the big news with the wider world (family and friends having been forewarned), and I’ve spent a little of the morning reading through some of the comments in reply. It brought it all back to me, but it also helped me find that context I mentioned earlier.
Crux Purposes
As I say, three long years have slipped by since that day which is actually less than I thought, but must be right because, well, why would Facebook lie to me (about this)? Of course, in those years life has changed… A lot. I've stopped working (there’s an argument I stopped a long time ago, but that was never official), Tina injects me with medication every other day, and I’ve had to learn to pace myself a little better. Basically, the practicalities of my life have changed. Time, however, has helped me to become so accustomed to those changes it becomes difficult to remember when they weren’t there.
It brings me back to what I hoped might be the crux of this post. Life, as I mentioned, has its highs and lows, and it has its ups and its downs, but it is time that helps provide the perspective on these. If Leeds United hadn’t spent 16 years in the doldrums of the lower leagues, then promotion would not taste half so good. If three years of increasing normality hadn’t passed since my initial diagnosis and the fears and frustrations which followed I might not be able to recognise the way (very) early retirement has not only failed to rob me of independence but allowed me to concentrate on things I actually enjoy doing. Such as writing.
Marching On
Time, they say, is a great healer, and I think there’s a lot in that. Hopefully, one day we can look back at even these days of Covid-19 and say we came through them. Hopefully, time will dull at least some of the pain and provide context for the joy to come. Hopefully, one day we can look back and say we’ve been through it… All together.
Until next time…
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