Me and the Clock Tower (in the photo on the right) have lived in Leicester for ever but I never planned it that way - I'm talking about me now, not the Clock Tower! I had once, in my teenage years, been on the verge of planning to go to Israel. I had booked myself onto a course to learn the language and the way of life on a 1960s Kibbutz. (They call them Aliyah Courses and they are still available today.) The timing of that course was crucial. I met the boy who was to become my first husband the week before and I cancelled the booking but what if...
I often wonder what it's like to live in another city or even another country. What's it like to make new contacts? I have known many of my Leicester friends since I was a baby and that's lovely but I sometimes wonder what it would be like to discover new shops, to find new places to visit, to learn about a new environment. I suppose I'll never know.
Every route I take through the City brings back a memory. I pass the street where I lived as a child, my old school, the garage where I bought my first car, the petrol station where I accidentally demolished the kiosk when I tried to put petrol into that first car, the spot in town where once a huge clock hung and where I met my first date, the house where my children grew up and where neighbours became dear friends, the University where I trained to be a teacher, the Adult Education Centre where I first learnt about creative writing. The list is endless and, whether I like it or not, these memory trips have become daily experiences for me.
I suspect that it's too late to move on now and so I shall try not to feel regret for those life experiences that might have been, but even so I can't help wondering what if...
