Aberdeen

I’ve been a wanderer all of my life, and many’s the sight I’ve seen…

There is no Aberdeen to which I long to return. My whole life has been spent moving on. There has never been anywhere for me to return to, because it was no longer there after I left.

I can remember two homes in England before I was five. We had five more homes in four towns in New Zealand before I was eleven.

The most stable period of my youth was my teenage years in West Auckland. After that I moved around a lot again, until I acquired a family and had a second, relatively stable, period with them in only three locations. And that didn’t last either. Not nearly as long as I wanted. It was not my choice. Which does not mean it was not my fault. I don’t know.

What I do know is there is nowhere to which I can return. No family seat, no family. Just scattered relatives. A few friends.

In the small hours I wonder “What if?” There is no answer except the soft early call of the magpie who roosts in the trees behind my caravan.

I ponder the events that led me here. Living with anyone is difficult. When does the effort become too much? Is the person wiser who decides “enough” or the one who keeps trying? Who is at fault, when someone calls enough? Perhaps the fault must always be borne by both.

I am trying to be more zen in my introspection and self-appraisal. I accept what is, but still can’t help wondering what if? I am the sum of my memories. I owe it to myself and the world to ensure my memories are honest and clear.

I was not a good son, I was not a good brother, I proved to be a poor husband, Twice. I truly don’t know any more what kind of father I was. I want to write accurately about my memories. Of what made me what I am. That will not always put me in a good light, but it also may not please those who get to see themselves as I saw them. They may see my perception of causality as blame. But one does not blame the sun for sunburn. It is what happens.

Well. Wow. I didn’t know that was where I was going when I started this post.

Author: Uisce úr

Though I am old with wandering Through hollow lands and hilly lands, I will find out where she has gone, And kiss her lips and take her hands; And walk among long dappled grass, And pluck till time and times are done, The silver apples of the moon, The golden apples of the sun.

6 thoughts on “Aberdeen”

  1. Remember, none of us can go back and change the past. All we can do is learn and make sure that we do differently in the future if we could have done better the first time. The past is a foreign country and all that stuff (cliché, sorry). ‘What-ifs’ are natural but – I find- not helpful. Examine them and then put them in a box. Enjoy what you have Today – the Magpie sounds nice.

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    1. A Quaker thought, take of it what you will. Through silence, we can love ourselves and others and see the very good world that (God) created. I am not a theist and you can interpret the word in brackets as you wish. I apologise if this sound intrusive.

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    2. Thanks Richard. That is what I am trying to do. I am writing what I know. Thinking aloud in print… telling a tale which may, or may not, become something meaningful.

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  2. You were a good friend, mostly.
    I take issue with your self-appraisal as a poor husband. Your first wife was deeply psychologically disturbed as the result of her parents and those events would have been mirrored no matter who she had married.
    Your second marriage is more opaque to me but I and at least one other who was more in a position to judge agree that your performance of your responsibilities was above average for New Zealand men.

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    1. Not sure about all that. I understand the ‘were’. A good friend knows how to fire a warning shot. David knows how. I don’t. I wasn’t always good at taking them either.

      I base my appraisal on the results. I know there are two sides to consider. I am just considering them aloud in print.

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