An Appreciation

An Appreciation

A traumatic milestone was safely consigned to the dark recesses and adroitly and carefully protected from public glare. However, due to let’s say an internal leak the dramatic vista was again foisted upon me at the last presentation. The shocking fear of looking over your shoulder, the realisation that time waits for no one and the road is narrowing in front of you returned to haunt me. Despair overtook me and a cry for help was emitted to all and sundry. Very few recognised the signs and my anguish went unaided. The symptoms were deep and scared. After many costly sessions of counselling I am now about able to talk about it. My designer stubble, letting the grey locks flourish wildly in spite of Roza’s misgivings, unable to sleep resulting in dawn walks and an awful deterioration in my already pretty miserable golf game.
My shock, my disbelief, the strangely raucous crowd at the presentation and public disclosure of a very personal and sensitive matter left me tongue tied. However, on mature recollection I am thrilled and utterly delighted with the aptly chosen gift. It is a beautifully crafted piece of art work and ties in with many strands of life to date. Selecting bog oak and its ageless existence was a master stroke and helped to avert thoughts of the fragility of life somewhat. Seriously lads, I am humbled and overwhelmed by your generosity of spirit and I am deeply grateful for the thoughtfulness and appreciation that it embodies. I am embarrassed by it all but madly in love again.