a picture like scene

Add-on to my wish-list

I was just walking on the surroundings of my new home, in this beautiful park. It was so pleasant to pass by people on their bikes, others running and some, like me, just walking and enjoying the agreeable end of afternoon. I was walking and enjoying myself, thinking of my home town and how that park remembered me of it and how it was going to be wonderful to live just here when I just saw the most amazing picture like scene: a man in his thirties was running slowly, as much as needed for his young daughter, maybe 6 years old, to accompany him, while they were reciting the alphabet. This was such a nice image, father and daughter sharing what I call a very high quality time. I kept walking, smiling at them and them at me just thinking how dreamy their life was to me and then I realized that the picture wasn’t complete though as the little girl’s pregnant mommy was on their track, just a little behind them, gingerly walking.

I am now only thinking of it, but this scene keeps making me smile and feel the nicest warmth in me.

This is how life should be!

Adeus avó.

I don’t quite remember how I got there. I know I drove, but can’t remember seeing cars or people.

And now I was facing this huge yellowish closed door. Behind it was everything and nothing. I couldn’t move. I just started to cry, at the beginning just tears rolling on my cheeks but quickly I was sobbing profusely until my knees couldn’t hold me anymore and I had to kneel. A nurse then came to see me: you were ready for me to see you but you were no longer there. And she opened the door for me to step in and gave me her hand shifting to me just the bit of strength I needed to stand up; and I walked in.

The nurse had opened the bag and I could see you looked at peace. I caressed your face and your hair. You were still warm. Suddenly, I was at peace too.

I said goodbye and went away. They all needed help, they all needed me. When I was walking away, nurses and people I had never met before, came to me, held my hand and told me how sorry they were for me… for you… But I barely could hear them. I barely could notice them. Something else was happening, like an ongoing connection I can’t explain, but it’s like I wasn’t there anymore either. It felt like you passed your strength onto me and most importantly, your mission: bringing us all together and it’s like silently, I promised to you I would.

“Avó, I promise I am trying; you know it’s not an easy task, but I’ll keep trying.

Adeus avó.”

just how good does it feel...

How good does it feel when you enter a place full with lots of dear friends?

A few days ago, I went to a special event and I experienced this very special feeling of entering into a room filled with people I love. 

It was a very special event indeed, don't get me wrong, but what I will cherish is first and foremost the ambiance of gathering, friendship, love and purpose, all the things that make me be so grateful for having such dear dear friends. Of course, none of it was meant for me, but in the end, that didn't really matter; what matters is what each and everyone of us makes of the opportunities that are given to us, and that's just what I did: I did the most of an opportunity given to me and enjoyed as much the event as I enjoyed being with these special friends of mine, the kind of friends who welcome you with a true warm hug, the kind of friend and the kind of hug that makes us feel whole.

There are no words to really describe any of it, so it's just a matter of enjoying the ride.

It's amazing how it just feels nice. Just so very nice.

So, cheers to friendship! Old. New. Intense. Joyful. 

na hora exacta

Obrigada Ana.

I’d like to lodge a complaint… with a relevant authority

With each other’s where we ought to be, Cathy
I’m gonna right to the Times, sign it desperate at “Dolphin’s Barn”
Shouldn’t we be in each other’s arms, Cathy?
Cathy, it’s at times like these I wish I wrote like you,
You seem to bend your words to suit your needs,
You melt my heart with your imagery, but I don’t know
How to say it better, than darling since I met you
I haven’t been the same
And I don’t know, all the whys and wherefores
But you’re the one I care for and that will never change Cathy
Oh to be with you tonight, smoke a jay and drink a g and t,
Do whatever’s coming naturally, Cathy
Turn the sheets into sails
Turn the bed into a golden ship
Floating slowly down the Mississippi, Cathy.. Cathy
Cathy can you help me please, you put these things more poetically than me
I’ve sang of how love feels but it’s much harder when it’s all real
And I don’t know
How to make it clearer, than honey when I’m near you
It’s like I’m in a dream, and I don’t know…..in stormy weather
Just to be together is good enough for me.. Cathy… Cathy.. Cathy

70/72

Il était une fois l’hirondelle du printemps. Elle vient annoncer l’arrivée des beaux jours et semer des couleurs un petit peu partout, commençant en Alaska, elle finira en Nouvelle Zélande et ne s’attardera qu’une heure tout juste dans chacune des longitudes, et elle sera reçue par chacune avec la même légèreté et le même sourire. Mais elle doit repartir, et même si ça nous attriste, nous devons lui permettre d’aller étaler ses couleurs, ailleurs.

Je ne serais là qu’un court moment, 3 jours, 72 heures à peine. C’est court, certes, mais il faudra le vivre intensément. Et lorsque je volerais 2 heures à ce court moment, il ne faudra pas m’en vouloir, il faudra seulement comprendre que le temps est ce qu’il est et qu’il est autant à vous qu’à moi, qu’en rien cela ne signifie que vous ne méritez pas, à mes yeux et à mon cœur, toutes les heures de mon existence, que même pendant ces 2 heures, comme pendant toutes les autres où je suis loin, vous êtes avec moi, et que les querelles ne serviraient a rien d’autre que de gâcher les 70 autres heures dont nous devrions profiter.

3 little words

There are several ways to show people how much we love them depending on who we are and on what we wish to build with the other person. But love is a two-way-road and sometimes our way of showing may not be enough. Feeling loved is so breath taking, but giving it may be as much rewarding.

Spending time with the special people in our lives is one way of showing them how we feel about them; to be with these special people when they fear, when they smile, when they cry and when they hurt is so special, but we should never think less of the power of words.

We should never assume people know how much they mean to us. We should be sure they know it and feel it in their souls. What does it take to say those 3 magical words? It may take 2 seconds and a short breath; maybe. Is it much compared to what we get in return: a glowing smile, a deep gaze, a wise murmur or even a 2-seconds-and-a-short-breath of love back?

Why are we so willing to express our discontentment, our regrets, our pain better that we are to say the most beautiful things? Why can we so easily complain about things and not value as easily what is already given to us?

Love and be loved, is there a warmer feeling? Is there a better soul liberator? Is there anything more worth of our time?

Because some day, it may be too late, I today dare say:

I need you

I miss you

I dream of you

I see you

Please see me

Please help me

Do miss me

I forgive you

Just hug me

I love you

Do love me too…