Without a doubt I want to say thank you to my first love. If you read this, I loved you the day I saw you walk up Copthorne Road. I had no idea who you were but I had decided you were going to be in my future. If I close my eyes I can still see you and what you were wearing: a pale blue jacket that you bought from the super posh men’s shop that used to be next to Barclays bank, opposite the main post office on St Mary’s street. It was called Harry Fenton’s, white shirt and jeans. Well it was posh to me then. I was wearing my brother’s hand me downs, as most things, new clothes were either out of my realm of thinking or grasp. I used to wait in the shop doorway to meet you if it was raining. Either there or more often than not at the bus station in Barker Street. It would not be unusual for you not to show up and I would walk home or get the last bus with a heavy heart, feeling rejected. Or assuming that you had way better things to do with your time than turn up as promised.
I spent most of my day delivering fliers for the short sale part of my real estate business. With temperatures typical of the deep south and a humidity to match, I stepped out at seven thirty and three hundred and something fliers and a dozen conversations later, I got home at two thirty, hot, sticky and sore.
Today I am up bright and early. Getting ready to list a house, pick up keys from other houses, meet my son and granddaughter from the airport and have oodles of fun! They too are a huge part of my “why” and if you are reading this Daisy…so are you!