Yesterday I turned 64.
A year ago my mother was alive, and my son was a bachelor.
Being 64 is a milestone set to music in that iconic Beatles’ Sergeant Pepper album, which, published in 1967, when I was just 17 (you know what I mean, and the way she looked was way beyond compare…) forecast a future which at the time seemed eternal.
But a lot of tragedy has happened in the last 12 months. Perhaps none more mysterious than the disappearance of 239 victims on Malaysian Airlines Flight 370, which plummeted somewhere in the Indian Ocean last March.
Equally, the nonsense that is going on with beheadings in Afghanistan is absolutely dreadful.
At worst, both are acts of evil.