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Gratitude
At last Saturday's birthday bash I found myself the bemused recipient of a number of delightful gifts. It seemed odd that someone who owns far more than he needs should be given even more, and it was another reminder of how lucky my life has been. One of the gifts, from Karen as it happens, was an engaging little book entitled Gratitude, comprising the final essays of that wisest of all wise old doctors, Doc Oliver Sacks. They are very brief essays - I read them all before the day was out - but, as you might expect, their depth belies their brevity. The title alone came close to summarising my feelings about the day and, indeed, life itself in its wonderful, unlikely, generous variety.
I'm hoping I've got another good decade in front of me. But I'll have nothing to complain about if it doesn't turn out that way.
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