Positivity: a work in progress - In the name of Thiago - Day 294

 

Well that sounds like a less than upbeat blog title Chris. And of course you'd be right. In my blog I've alluded on many occasions to how my ambition for the second half of my life was to be more like my son; a glass half full kind of guy. 

On one hand, that's easy. He was bright, he was bubbly, he never grumbled in spite of all the rubbish cards that life dealt him and he left an indelible mark on every single person, who had the pleasure to meet him. On the other hand, he's no longer with us and every time I see a photo of him I burst into tears because I don't think I'm going to be able to cope with him not being around any more. And being in such an emotional state means that all the other shit in life that goes on - I genuinely cannot go into details, it wouldn't help me to do that - just makes me angry, as it is supposedly important but frankly is anything but.

Thiago's headstone has been restored. No sooner than I'd arrived at the cemetery, it started hosing down, so my trip to see the little man was curtailed somewhat. Speaking honestly, I find every visit here at Keele extremely upsetting. The tears have come frequently and painfully today. 

In fact, now I think about it, everything to do with Keele makes me feel shit and not just because it's so far up its own arse. My days as a director of my own film company ended here and then in an act of desperation, as I could simply find nowhere to employ me, I ended up working for a very short time at the university itself, a place I had very little time for. To be balanced about this though, I'm not certain this is a Keele thing or a university thing. Either way shitness abounds at this place on the hill. And now my son is buried here. 

I must say that the headstone itself is beautiful. I'm sharing these photos of my visit to the cemetery for two reasons. Firstly, well I was there so why wouldn't I, but secondly because, as perhaps the eagle-eyed amongst you may have already observed, the little heart in the bottom right of the stone now has a beautiful picture of my hero inside it. 

I'm thrilled that John at JBM Memorials was able to remove the stone, add the image then refix to Thiago's resting place. I really am extremely grateful to him for this superb work. The reason the image was omitted in the first place, came as a result of a misunderstanding, and on reflection that was probably more on my part. When you're at your very lowest, mistakes like this can happen. I'm happy that I was insistent about getting the image of Thiago put on his headstone - it makes such a difference.

What a beautiful little boy. There's so much life in his eyes and so much happiness encapsulated by his clasped hands. His is the face of someone who just wants to get everything they can out of their time. And though that time was so tragically short, I still think he managed to do that.

 

For completeness, as we say slightly annoyingly in the communications game, this is the image that the headstone used as its reference point. They've done fantastically well. I often pursue doing something for no good reason but Christ alive, am I relieved I pursued this, as it's made such a difference. Now, when you read the words 'Our little ray of sunshine' on his headstone, you see the beautiful picture of him and genuinely see what we meant when we wrote that. He was just that and so much more - a joyful inspiration.

After I'd been to the cemetery, I went to see my Dad and as is so often the case it plunged me further into despondency. One thing that those utter shitfuckers calling themselves life coaches often say, is that you should surround yourself with positive people and try to drain away the negativity. Easier said than done with family though. It would be far easier for the old man to stop being so ungrateful to everyone that tries to help him but that's probably never going to happen. And so we come back to today's blog title: 'Positivity: a work in progress'!

Donations for the fundraiser are still open. If not for me, donate for the beautiful little boy that gave this blog its name. He'd love you for it.