Writer's Notebook

It would certainly be the last time we did this together. Memories of previous wortkouts flooded back. Dad putting me through the paces. Dad holding back to let me think I was getting there at last. The ones where there was so little to tell between, when each of us ran until breaking-point and still we were side by side thirty minutes later. And now this one last run, Dad visibly decaying; this time I was the one holding back to let him think...

After just ten minutes he stopped without a word. Visibly exhausted he bent double, straightened himself back up and put his arm on my shoulders.

"You're looking forward to tomorrow, aren't you? You've been talking about nothing else for weeks. Well, I want you to remember one thing. Getting married is a wonderful thing, and you're right to be excited about it. But, one thing I've learnt from my life with your mother, is this. Always think of tomorrow."

This final piece of fatherly advice surprised me. I looked at him and waited for more. Nothing came. What did he mean, "always think of tomorrow"?

But all that was soon forgotten as we jogged slowly back home. Yes, our wedding was to be the next day. We had put it forward - not that we minded - so we could be sure Dad would be present. "A few weeks the doctor said, maybe a little more. It's hard to tell." Those few weeks would soon be over.

Our wedding was a truly wonderful occasion. Even the weather played ball, and as we left the next evening in the battered old mini I felt a feeling of deep satisfaction. Everyone knew we were planning on going to Italy for our honeymoon, and we had even let slip the name of the hotel we were staying at that night, certain that the moment we left, faster cars than ours would be speeding down the motorway in a bid to surprise us on our arrival. What they didn't know about was the caravan we had rented for the week, hidden away in a clearing in the woods just 10 miles away and where we were actually spending our wedding night.

Several hours later we lay in each other's arms and closed our eyes to get some sleep. That first time with each other was wonderful and there would be so much more to come. I wondered how on earth I was going to live up to expectations... to my own expectations. How on earth could I possible be the kind of loving partner I so wanted to be; the way Mam and Dad had been. Then I remembered Dad's words... "Always think of tomorrow." Now I knew what he meant. Tomorrow was the next occasion I had to show my love. As I lay there in the arms of my beloved, I made a mental note of what I wanted to do to express that love. And high on the list was also a letter of thanks to Mum and Dad for the wonderful way they had patterned life together, not to forget a word of thanks to Dad for his so precious advice. And as my list drew to a close, I added one final point at the end... tomorrow. That was the way to move forward one day at a time; never to forget tomorrow.