I was reading an article recently on what one woman thought of being “older”. It made me think about what it meant to me and here is the outcome of my thoughts on getting older.
“Older” is a rather interesting word. When we get to a certain age,
The stories of my life
The stories of my life
I was reading an article recently on what one woman thought of being “older”. It made me think about what it meant to me and here is the outcome of my thoughts on getting older.
“Older” is a rather interesting word. When we get to a certain age,
New York….We were off to New York. Paul, my husband, got a job on a newspaper in New York. He flew off within a week and I was left to pack up and rent out our home in Sydney. The children had to leave their schools and me my job.
Throughout our lives, many of us have lived in one or two homes and others – many houses. Some small and some large. I have been lucky (although many will say unlucky) that I have lived in many houses in six different countries over the past fifty plus years.
Home to me is a place to live and spend our spare time and sleep at night. It is not a possession or a showcase to impress neighbours, friends and family.
During my lifetime, I have lived in more than thirty four homes. Some small, some large.
Sometimes taking a risk is something that you prepare for. Often, it is physical such as jumping out of a plane or climbing to the top of high mountain. Sometimes it is something that you hope will improve your life and give you and your family the opportunity to experience other ways of living.
Lulu is the youngest of my four daughters. Her real name is Lucy Matilda. The Lucy became Lulu from her three older sisters calling her Lu and it quickly became Lulu. She was called Matilda as her second name after the hospital she was born in Hong Kong, where we were living.
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