Dear LPG, 

When addressing the people who usually read this online newsletter, I suspect that the oldies of this world will read my message, so it makes sense to assume that, like me, most readers are pensioners. That means there will be many grandmas, granddads, grand uncles and grandaunts, both literal and honorary, included.

Do you see getting up in the morning the same way I do these days? I usually please myself to a much greater extent and appreciate that I can be lazier than ever if I want to on most days. But every aspect of life has its ironies, and I want to talk about one now.  

I might be pleading the case for many more people of my age and experience than I imagine here… 

I am sure it all started with my never sleeping at the correct times and keeping my parents up at all hours, but my first pre-school recollection was of a time when getting up was something I did much earlier than my parents would have ever appreciated. My siblings and I would be reasonable about it sometimes and have a torch and a book under the covers for a while if we were not playing quietly. Still, it would be inevitable that we would be caught by a sleepy parent ready to turn off the lights and offer a reprimand.  

Then comes school when you get up, realise what day it is and try your best to pretend you are still sleeping, or even ill, to avoid the sound of your mum’s command to get up and dressed every morning. But it is pretty alarming when you think of how short that era of one’s life lasts. Before you know it, this stage of your life usually accompanies the need to leave home. This is when you acquire the freedom to get up whenever you like (as long as you remember to blend it with making sure you are where you need to be in the mornings).

By the time you become embroiled in the toils of extended study or a week of work, mixed with late nights out, a need for Saturday and Sunday morning lie-ins have to be the way forward if you are to survive, but this is when parents establish that annoying habit of assuming that you will be up and ready for action by at least 10 a.m., which is when they interrupt your beauty sleep on a weekly base with a call to remind you that they love you. It was evident that they didn’t understand. You knew that already!  

You hardly blink before the next life stage kicks in. So many of us get comfortable with this single life, and that is when we will have assumed the responsibilities of parenthood and all the early mornings that go with it. When your baby’s babyhood turns into childhood, the problems don’t get any better and get much more complicated. These are the days when they often cause you to get up while it is still dark. Having been up for hours and assuming it is a lot later in the day than it is, you will feel the need to share your troubles. I bet that you dial your mum or your dad at that point.  

Before too long, it is your turn to be that mum or dad who thinks that, now the children have flown the nest, your early morning duties are over, but there you are again on the other end of the phone, listening to all the woes of one or other of your offspring at a time when you thought that your responsible and thoughtful children would know that you had reached the stage when a weekend sleep in was allowed. So, you again find yourself half asleep listening to the many problems your children are having with their children while you mumble, ‘mmmmm’, appropriately while still half asleep. 

Finally, you retire and acquire the habit of napping more readily at any time during the day. It is often then that the interruption of the phone while you are just nodding off is the final reminder that your chosen ringtone, unlike the old-fashioned piercing sound of yesteryear, can be a reason to perk up and leave sleeping for night time. These have to be the phone call interruptions that are most appreciated because, on a day when we have nothing to do or nowhere to go, it is good to know that we are remembered, whatever the reason. 

SY, Lewisham