At 45, one would think I would know what this shitshow is all about – yet I am none the wiser. If anything, as time goes on, I am getting more and more confused. There has been some comfort along the way though.
Several years ago, I sat at a bar in a country pub and was having a yarn with an 83-year-old knockabout. He told me he had outlived his missus and two sons. The biggest joy of his day was getting on his motorised scooter to the pub and having two pots.
“It’s a way to be social at this age.” He said. “It’s something to look forward to.”
I told him I was trying to work out my life. And he replied:
“Don’t waste too much time on that love. You could waste a good twenty years!”
He reckons at 83, he had more questions than answers. I was amazed. SHOCKED.
“Life is a riddle Vanessa, just leave it at that.”
It’s incredible the wisdom one can find at an old country pub — on a lonely Tuesday arvo.