Today I am feeling happy, happy, happy, for the first time in months. Full Moon is passed, which helps. But that’s not it.
Yesterday I met one of the grandsons of the man who bought this house around about 1947, but the date is a bit of a guess.
Startlingly he has the same visage as both of two other grandchildren of this man who inherited it from his only daughter. I bought the house from them in 1992. I would have known who he was immediately. But that’s not it either.
Bad French notwithstanding we did manage to have a chat. Although I didn’t ask enough questions, but never mind.
He told me that I live in a good place, that I don’t look 82 years old and that I would certainly live to be at least 100. I knew all of this anyway but I had somehow lost the plot with all of this Covid stuff. I didn’t solicit any of this. He just said it. So I suddenly rediscovered Hope. And goodness me, did I ever need it. Perhaps he could tell just by looking at me. It will be a very long time before I forget him.
So many of us lost hope by having our possible mortality thrust upon us and we really do need to go back to being who we were and will be again.
Elena mitchell's Blog 
June 3, 2021 at 9:07 am |
It’s so wonderful to meet inspiring uplifting people. He is probably unaware of what he has done for you. How nice.
June 3, 2021 at 9:31 am |
It was pretty amazing, Liz. In the space of twenty minutes he restored my faith in myself without even appearing to try.
Most of this Hamlet is peopled by the old man’s relatives to whom he sold or gave land. I so wish that I had known him and knew more about him. But his legacy is everywhere.
I would like to ask his Grand daughter who lives in the Hamlet but my French just isn’t good enough; or so I think.