Raison d’Etre

Without me realising it, TMB actually passed it’s first birthday on the 15th of last month. Much as I love the irony of forgetting when I started writing about my memories, I am surprised not only at the fact that I’ve found enough to write about to keep going for a year, but that so many other people have found it interesting too. Thank you all for your support over the past almost 13 months.

A few days ago, Marc asked me why I began writing TMB in the first place. There are two reasons. The first is that I wanted to write things down before I forgot them for good. The second, and more important one, is this: I have a gorgeous son, who will be four next month. However, he was born less than eighteen months after I met Caro, my wife. There are so many things about my life which I have not been able to tell her yet, which means that, were I to go under a bus tomorrow, there are many things that she would not be able to tell him about me.

Ah, you may be saying, but I still have family members who could fill in the gaps for him. And that is precisely the problem – he would get their recollection, not mine. And that is not always accurate. For example, I love my Mum to bits but she has the most amazing memory; she not only remembers things differently to me, she remembers things which didn’t actually happen.

Then there are the times where I was misunderstood, such as this one. Another famous one (at least in our family) is the time that I picked up a pink shirt in a branch of M&S and told my sister Karen that it matched the colour of my eyes. Karen has forever since related this story as proof that I am a colour blind idiot. This ignores the fact that I was joking. I may be colour blind and an idiot, but I can tell pink from blue, especially in M&S where the colour is printed on the garment label (and I am always very careful to check the colour on the label of anything I am buying that isn’t black or white).

I hope that explanation makes sense. Once again, thank you for all of your help and support over the last year or so. It means a lot to me.

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About Richard

Just your less-than-average married father of one
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