Form is temporary – In the name of Thiago – Day 236

 

As a man of outstanding class, I am obliged to write that form is indeed temporary. Aside from Monday – which for me was a non-working day – when I was really happy to catch up with my friends Tinny and Saira in Lancaster, the stars just haven’t aligned since this week.

 

I’m starting to get a little overwhelmed by everything going on I think is the main thing at play here. The walk is just over three weeks away. Three weeks tomorrow after Elisa finishes school, the three of us shall drive down to Eastbourne and crash at my brother’s new gaff before getting underway the following day.

 


 

Until then I will still be able to allow my mind to be distracted by questions such as why does a delivery driver ask you where you would like the stuff that is so heavy that it has to be carried in on a pallet truck and then just dump it on the driveway and do one? The good lady, as you can see from the picture, was none too impressed.

 

Until fairly recently I had visions of everything being pretty much done by around the time I was ready to leave for the walk. I wouldn’t say that this is exclusively true of only building projects but at this very moment in time it seems that the closer we get to the finishing line, the further away it seems to be. This makes little sense, but you’ll have to allow me a little creative licence; I’m so tired.

 


 

A floor is starting to be laid in the front room, so that’s a positive and it is a lovely feeling to have space to walk around in, even if breathing in the air circulating around the space is still laden with risk. But the reason that there is so much space to walk around in soon becomes apparent when you walk into what one day will be our kitchen again, as there’s still shit everywhere!

 

But you know what none of this actually matters shit in the big scheme of things. In some ways I find it healthy that I can occupy my mind with this stuff rather than sit in a permanent state of moroseness. Other times I think, stop being such a fucking dick and think about your boy and how you’re going to honour his name. There is no right or wrong.

 


 

Before we went to my Dad’s tonight, Angélica and I discussed happiness. Though we’re grieving in entirely different ways, we both have something very much in common about how we feel each day. And that is, though we will occasionally be able to be happy, we have come to the awful realisation that we may never again be able to reach a state of happiness.

 

When Thiago was with me, and even though he was so fucking poorly, I found that there were whole days where I could float around in a transcendental state. If you’d seen me at that time last year, you’d have probably thought I was off my tits on something or other. Nope I was just experiencing the sheer joy that children can bring. Oh, I’m sure he would have done things in later life to really test me, but he would always have been my son. Always will in fact.   

 

Right that’s it, that’s your fucking lot for today. Keep those donations coming folks and I’ll see if I can somehow cheer up a bit. I’m making no promises.







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