John Findley

With one thing and another, I lived with my grandparents through my school years. My Dad remarried and I lost touch with him until my sister wished to marry, needing his permission tracked him down. We met his new family and I found more brothers and sisters.
On leaving school, I worked for a government bank for well over thirty years. I was a good banker. I liked my job, and I advanced through the ranks from clerk to manager. But the money/pay packet was never enough for me to live on, so many part-time jobs were undertaken in the early mornings or at night.
I met and married a sweet young lady; we acquired a family of three children. We enjoyed a few great caravan holidays, one lasting six months and taking us all around Australia. That wife found that a better life awaited her, so she left our three children with me and started a new life with her new love. My children and I continued caravan holidays, and I learned to iron shirts, prepare meals, etc., and do most of the jobs the ex-wife had done.
A new lady then came into my life, bringing three children of her own. I fell hopelessly in love. We married and set about combining two households. A group of friends met in our home once a month. We wrote short stories and shared them with each other. This I enjoyed very much, and I would work enthusiastically and try to relive parts of my life and record them on paper.
When the bank job finished, the writing was on the wall: a lot of staff would not be needed. We had been running taxis of our own for a few years. It was another part-time job, but more hours were put into the taxis than my bank job. Running our taxis and managing other people’s taxis gave us a good living for a few more years.
Then, it was time to retire. We sold our taxi business and managed a few holiday beach houses in the small country town where we lived.
Now all work is in the past? Well, maybe not I will continue writing. I still have something to do.