Today I wore my best
suit to work. It is navy, made from fine wool and has a tailored fit, double
pockets on the right-hand side of the jacket, and side fasteners rather the
belt hoops on the trousers. I like to think it looks pretty sharp though I
suspect very few others notice.
There was no
particular reason for wearing my best suit. No important client meeting, nobody
senior I was trying to impress. I wasn’t feeling down and trying to give myself
a boost. The weather was so-so.
It was just an average
day and I sometimes wear my best suit, or one of my best ties, or my best work
shoes on average days.
It is a big cliché
that the condemned person wants to use their best things now rather than save
them for the special occasion that may never come. It’s like the apocryphal
story of the previously conservative man who gets diagnosed with terminal
cancer and then immediately packs in his job, sails around the world and immerses
himself in a hedonistic lifestyle, making up for lost time.
I don’t quite view it
like that but it’s true that being diagnosed with an incurable degenerative
condition like Parkinson’s sharpens one’s view of what is and isn’t important
in life.
In particular,
material things don’t exactly lose their value, but the value is in enjoying
them today not tomorrow. So, for example, Clara and I drink out of the nice
wine glasses and don’t worry too much if they break.
We are no longer especially
materialistic anyway. We drive a 13-year-old car, have relatively cheap
furnishings in our house and are not particularly into designer labels. But
now, keeping up with the neighbours or friends or work colleagues is even less
a concern.
For example, last autumn
when I got promoted at work, I decided to treat myself to a new watch to
replace the one I had been wearing for 15 years. I spent a day touring various
new and second-hand watch specialists in upmarket places like Knightsbridge,
Bond Street and Piccadilly. Looking for something classic and Swiss, I tried on
timepieces from the likes of Patek Philippe, Vacheron Constantin, Omega and Rolex. All big (and expensive) status symbols. But then, in the window of a
small art shop, I spotted a couple of black and white zoological prints I liked
the look of – and that I figured Clara would appreciate too.
My watch is now in its
16th year, and it still tells the time. Instead of me impressing
people at work with a designer chronometer, Clara and I get to look at some
fine art every day when we walk through our front door. And I avoided wasting a lot of money on a
vanity purchase.
But we do now spend
more on shared experiences. Previously endlessly on the treadmill at work, we now
make the effort to go away for a night to the seaside, or to see a West End
play or to go somewhere nice for an anniversary (although I do have to manage these things around my fatigue). And of course, finances permitting, we treat
ourselves to special holidays.
A blindingly obvious
thing to say, but life is for living.
