Malcolm Cox

Two weekends ago, I spent a memorable time with some dear old friends—friends I hadn't seen for several decades. The occasion was a reunion of my fellow music students who graduated with me from the University of Birmingham 40 years ago. We reconvened in Birmingham for a weekend filled with walking, talking, eating, and sharing stories. We reminisced about the good old days, told tall tales, corrected each other's fading memories, and, most importantly, we reconnected.  The experience left me feeling thoroughly refreshed and deeply reflective. This weekend, while bringing back a flood of happy memories, also brought me face-to-face with some less-than-positive aspects of my past. My time at university was a mix of highs and lows. I acquired valuable musical skills, made lasting friendships, and, perhaps most importantly, met my wife, Penny—an earthly blessing I cherish above all others.  However, I also carried a heavy load of regrets. Some were related to my lack of dedication to my studies, some to unheal