I am unfinished, due to not being dead yet. Does that count?
Neither am I planning on being finished anytime soon, having years’and years’ worth of unfinished business to deal with before I can possibly shuffle off this mortal coil with anything like a clear conscience. How could I, for example, leave my nearest and dearest to cope with the mess on my desk or plough their way through the bottom of my cupboard, where I pop all those things to be dealt with ‘later’? Though I guess we should all bear in mind that The best laid plans of mice and men… etc.
And having quoted Robert Burns, I’m reminded of another bit of ‘unfinished’: my eldest grandson’s trip to Scotland, where at this minute I have no doubt he is having himself a good time with his mate Adam and Adam’s family, who invited him along on their visit back home for the school holidays. Not that we’d know about the good time, he being far too immersed in the now to post the multitude of photos he promised on his Instagram page, which is the way it goes when you’re 16.
My son and daughter-in-law, on the other hand, are posting LOTS of photos from their unfinished trip to the Czech Republic, where they and their three daughters are visiting d-in-l’s brother and his family, who live in Prague. They will also be spending a few days in London and Paris on their way home, to whet the girls’ appetites for the infinitely unfinished business of broadening their minds.
I love this. I love the fact that my children have already been all over the world, and that their children have already started travelling. Don’t run away with the idea, though, that this means they’re wealthy. It’s all a matter of hard work and priorities – and in my grandson’s case, the luck of the draw: his charm and good looks got him a TV commercial, which paid his fare to Scotland.
Are my travelling days finished? Probably. I’d like it to be otherwise, but being locked in a tin can 33,000 feet above the comforts of terra firma for 24 hours… Hmmm…