Days of future passed

The title, of course, alludes to an album by the Moody Blues. I bought it half a lifetime ago. It has their most famous song: Nights in White Satin.

Looking back over the nearly 11 months spent in my country gives me the strong sense of future days passing.

There was so much we had planned to do that has now been done.

People we have visited. Vacations we have taken. Our visit to the Olympics and Paralympics in London. A trip with my parents. A series of work events: planned, delivered, history.

There have been surprises, of course. Unexpected pleasures, as well as problems to be handled.

I try to keep feeling the wonder and gratitude for each new day.

But sometimes in my reviews of long-planned days that are now in the past, I am unsettled by the knowledge that my internal calendar stretches both forwards and back. As I stand on each day that is today, I am just filling in the details.

Which reminds me of something written by Thomas Hardy in one of his novels.

We mark the day of our birth each passing year. But, unbeknown to us, each year we also pass the date of our future death. So best not to be complacent.

Every day is a gift and one day will be my last on this Earth.