A very special day

My fiftieth birthday - unusually for November it wasn't too grey a day but instead was dry, with blue skies and just the merest hint of sunshine trying to break through. No trip to New York or Paris for me, no cruise or fancy jewellery to celebrate living on this earth for half a century, instead a trip to the seaside on my own with two Manchester Terriers and three ETT brats [dogs to those who don't know their English breeds]. A trip in my lovely old BMW - Thunderbird One - just me, the dogs and my music. For one whole day I wasnt someone's mum, daughter, sister, ex, I wasn't sat behind a desk at work, I was just me pleasing myself, no ties, no clock watching. The music was loud, I sang along badly but was word perfect and I probably drove a tad too fast had I had passengers, the dogs didn't complain. They were just pleased to be with me in the car going somewhere, anywhere.

The drive to Swanage via the back roads was uneventful, and despite not driving that route for eight years, I didnt take the wrong road once. I went past the aerial disguised as a tree and bounced along tummy tickle road, all the things the boys used to look out for when they were young. Dropping down the hill and seeing Corfe Castle brought back memories of school trips, always to Swanage and Corfe Castle, and holding hands and stolen kisses with boyfriend of the time. Wonder what happened to him?

I parked Thunderbird up on the beach exactly as I used to do when I had the boys but no bucket or spades or blow up dolphins or picnics to unload, just the dogs who went off along the beach at warp factor nine telling everyone how happy they were to be in Dorset. I spotted a sad looking man sad on the beach staring out to sea but, as is usual being English, felt it wasn't polite to intrude so made sure not to catch his glance and instead chased after the dogs. Having walked round nearly as far as Studland, and sat and watched the ferries take passengers to Jersey, Guernsey and France, I made my way back towards the car and fish and chips for lunch.

Walking back to the car I noticed the same sad man still sat in the same spot. I had been gone for three plus hours and he hadn't moved. The dogs decided that he had to be investigated which meant that I had to speak if only to apologise for their behaviour. His face was just etched in sadness, a very heavy aura of misery surrounded him. Being who I am, I cheekily asked if he could keep an eye on the dogs if I left them in the car and I went and bought two portions of fish and chips and a very large, sweet coffee. Returning to the car, I let the dogs run out again and invited the man to join me and sit in the boot of my estate car and share the fish and chips, I persuaded him by telling him it was my birthday. I handed him the sweet coffee and we ate our meal in silence.

We both saved bits of fish for the dogs, he was obviously an animal person and I commented on it. It then that he told me why he was on the beach. The day before he had buried his wife who had lost her life to breast cancer. She was only 41 years old. They didn't have children and both were only children who didn't have any surviving parents. He was totally alone. We talked for a couple of hours, of life, of school, of funny memories, sad memories, our music tastes, first dates, we talked about everything and anything. At one point, we even walked the dogs along the sea front, bought postcards and rock for my sons and sat on the pier people watching.

As it started to get dark, I had to go home. My elder son [a chef] was cooking a special meal for me, younger son was helping. We returned to my car and I drove him back to his. In convoy, we returned back to where I come from and where he could pick up the M4 motorway - he came from Suffolk and had got in his car that morning sans SatNav or map and ended up at Swanage with no idea how he got there. I waved him goodbye once I had taken him up to the motorway junction and returned home.
 
Unloading the car, I noticed a postcard in the boot. Written on the back was *Thank you for sharing your birthday with me. I wish you many, many more. X * To this day I have no idea what his name is/was. I spent four hours in his company, I know who he worked for, where he lived, lots of intimate things but not his name.
 
Why was this day particularly special? Driving home I realised how precious life is, how quickly it can change and how much we take it for granted. I wasn't in a particularly good place in my personal life but that day taught me that only I could change things. No one was going to change it for me. It has taken a while but I am slowly finding myself, doing things for myself and taking responsibility for myself. I have done things I would never have been brave enough to and met some wonderful people along the way.

Friends I went to school with who also turned 50, were taken on expensive holidays or shopping trips or received new cars, expensive jewellery, etc to commemorate their day, I have a very special postcard to remind me of my special day. 

Sarah Lawrence