January 21, 2022 – The day after

The House wher I was born. Huggletts Lane, England

Yesterday was my birthday 86 years ago. I was born in England in a house located on a hill that was named Huggletts Lane in the village of Old Heathfield where I lived during the Second World War. I had two brothers and a sister who were all in the Armed Services doing their part and I was the youngest by 10 years to my sister. Although not witnessing the actual horrors of war, I lived in the flight path of the German Luftwaffe as they made their nightly bombing trips on London and watched dog fights as the two sides were locked in mortal combat and followed the path of the Doodlebugs hoping that their engines would not stop, and they would come down and explode near me. I also watched as the planes and gliders flew over to land in Arnhem and other locations as the tide of the war, turned. All of this as I grew up as a 3-year-old until the war ended when I was 9. 
With my parents divorced when I was 11, I led a troubled childhood bouncing from one relative to another before at the age of eighteen, I took charge of my own life which included 3 marriages, 2 sons and a daughter, 2 stepdaughters and a stepson before dragging half of them around the World to meet up again with my mother and her GI husband that she had married many years ago, another outcome of the Second World War. She had followed him to America directly after the war ended.  

Then in 1967, I and my family made the big decision and moved to America, and I have been here ever since never having been back to the old country. Would I like to go back? Sure, but not at my age as I do not think I would enjoy it having memories of it as it used to be. My version of England is the idyllic one that you see on television with beautiful countryside and quant houses with thatched roofs and friendly neighbors. I do not think I would like the modern version. I would like to see my two grown-up sons and get to meet one of my heroes, Solly March, my Great, Great grandson who is living out my dream by playing professional football for Brighton and Hove Albion in the English Premier League. 
After my last wife left for pastures greener, thirty years ago, I remained a single man having had enough of women and the problems that they can bring on a man and lived in Austin, Texas until last year when I sold the house and moved full time into an RV doing some travelling and spending a couple of weeks or more at each campsite especially if it was one that appealed to me. I returned to the current one, Henly RV Park located in Henly, Texas just outside of Dripping Springs for the winter months. 
Now, my time is running out as the years roll on by. I have no endearing wishes but hope to make it to New York State later this year when all signs of winter are gone. After that, who knows? Find a nice campground, sell Miss Daisy for a larger RV, and settle down to live out what remains of my life? Hopefully, I will get to see a few more birthdays and still be lucid enough to write about them. If not, I will just shoot myself and be done with it. Just kidding but I really do not want to end up in an Old Fogey’s Home and as the song goes, “I want to live until I die”. 
Eighty-six years in a nutshell.