Stroke

I’m appoaching the age my dad was when he had a stroke. This juxtaposition of my dad’s medical history and the fright of his unexpected stroke and my approach to that same age caught me unawares earlier today. Like a kick in the belly, actually. There was my dad plodding along doing whatever he was doing one day, probably looking forward to his birthday and on that same birthday he had his stoke.

So I ask myself: if I were to have a stroke on my next birthday that left me incapacitated thereafter, what would I want to do between now and then? Happily, my dad’s stroke was a mild one. But still, it sharpens the mind on that old theme of the brevity of life. Life is far, far too short to spend it doing stuff you don’t enjoy. It’s far too short to spend it living in fear. It’s far too short to postpone whatever it is you want to do before you die.

So here it is guys and girls. I’ve fathered my children, I’ve planted my trees, married the love of my life, built a home I love, written some books and, as an commissioning editor, commissioned lots and lots of other people’s books. But the one thing I really, really want to do is to complete a particular book of my own that I’ve been trying to write for the last 20 years. My osteopath – there’s no better way of talking about what’s really going on in your life than when the right professional is working on your back muscles and untying those physical knots – says it’s a book I need to write before I die. And I do. And I am. I’m working on it. It’s taking shape.

That’s the one big thing I really want to do before I have any bolts from the blue. So, what would you do if you were told you’d be having a stroke on your next birthday?