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Disappearing

I am losing my past.  The friends and family who shared that past and my memories are disappearing until I find myself only being in contact with people I have met in the last few years.  My past is like the writing on a chalk board being erased line by line until it is gone.  I lost my last contact with my childhood yesterday when I visited a friend I have had since we were five years old.  Somehow we have managed to keep in touch even though our lives took completely different paths but yesterday when I visited she had disappeared into the realms of dementia, lost in a world that her family and friends do not belong to.

My disappearing past is my own fault.  I have moved so many times, made good, close friends and then lost touch with them when I have moved on.  Never one to look backwards, I now have no choice but to look forwards.  To what I wonder?  Well first of all hopefully to the demise of Trump, to a Brexit deal so that I can keep my health cover and continue living in France, to countries waking up to the state of the world's climate change and the curse of plastics.  That will do for starters anyway.


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