12th April 2023
It was my son’s birthday, he is forty nine today.
Ryan was born on the evening of Good Friday, and, at the time he had to struggle to survive. The staff at the hospital warned us that he may not survive the night. We had to give him a name.
In between the tears I suggested Ryan, named after Ryan O’Neil the actor.
The night was long, I think I ran out of tears, but as the sun rose up, he was still with us, he was a fighter, and he had a purpose.
He has grown into a kind and generous man, he has given me two fantastic grandchildren, and he has been a good husband to Louise.
Ryan is so different from my other son Damian, as different as chalk and cheese, but they both share a wicked sense of humour, usually at my expense.
It was another warm day, a bit too hot for my flannel shirt, but I cannot trust this Michigan weather yet.
My new saw was working overtime, I managed to cut pieces for several doors and drawer fronts, doing the necessary additional machining and even applying a grey primer.
A lady arrived to bring the rocking chair that she wanted refinishing, I was secretly hoping that she had forgotten, but although a week or so later than we agreed, there she was.
We were also close to finishing a dresser, but I needed to make new guides and repair the wooden runner that had worn away over the years.
There was a present walk down by the lagoon with the hounds, stopping to talk to two older ladies sitting out on their deck.
I was ready to chill out for the rest of the evening, feeling guilty because it was still light, but I soon talked myself out of that, and put my feet up.
Another Lifetime to go 