Turning Point

Today

We rarely recognise a turning point in our lives when we are experiencing it. Only hindsight sheds the clear light.

This week saw the forty-first anniversary of Paul and my meeting. One Facebook friend asked how we met - "must have been a very lucky moment" she said.

Well, most of the family knows the story but I suppose I ought to record it.

In My Day

I didn't feel very lucky, sitting on the grimy floor of a friend's flat at a very overcrowded student party. I'd worked to prepare the party and now it seemed that several hundred gatecrashers had turned up, none of whom I knew. The noise was deafening and the place so crowded that any attempt to move from my place would probably prove fatal. I talked in a desultory way to a blonde girl who was more interested in the bloke on the other side.

It was nearly 3.00 am, I wanted to go home and couldn't figure out how I was going to do this.

Suddenly I heard someone say "Has everyone got lifts?" I looked up to see a chap who looked as out of place as I. He was wearing a suit and tie and was peering around uncertainly. However, he'd said the magic word "lift" and I wasn't going to let this chance pass, if chance it was. "Are you offering?" I demanded, wanting to be sure of my facts.

He was, indeed. He told me his name was Paul and, on the way home, also being someone who didn't let a chance pass, asked me if I'd go out with him the following Monday. I agreed, for want of a good reason to say "no" and because it seemed churlish to disappoint my rescuer.

And, no, at the time, I didn't spot this as a turning point in my life.