Memories of an era


“Take care of all your Memories. For you cannot relive them.      Bob Dylan”

It is fascinating how memories return, in the least expected ways.

There we were, travelling home late at night after his training. A winter’s night, and he had earlier jumped into the car, hugging himself tight and then putting his hands over the air vents, for some warmth. We had stopped for fuel and a hot chocolate for him, which he then clasped within his hands, taking sips every so often.

That action in a series of quick flashes reminded me of holding a takeaway cup filled with coffee, going to work, an association to being an adult, then looking over to him and realising that he was nearly there, an adult and absorbing his features of a young man eager to take on the world, invincible.

As I began saying, “I didn’t think I would see…

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