July 28, 2014

Monday

This morning, surprise. A call from Belgium when I was driving Karine to School. From my aunt, Andree, in Belgium. She was calling on behalf of Marie Benedicte, my sister, who was worried about me coming to Belgium or to her home at the moment when her husband, Benoit, would come back ...in a bad shape from some addiction.
In the afternoon I could also talk to Jean-Marc, my brother. He wishes now to rent the house. Should I stay or should I go? So goes the song...

I have asked for some fresh pictures of the house. But how deep is our sorrow. Tonight I was remembering my youth in my parents' house there in the province of Liege in Belgium, in the Geer Valley...how proud I was when showing the medals that we had placed at the foundation of the house. How proud I was, when I was 5-6 and the house was being finished and seemed definitely the most beautiful in town. But dad's health was declining and later, after childhood, the teenage years would be merciless for me, killing self esteem very gravely, and it would take years to recover. Years of rebellion. Years of adopting other trends, among which the english, and later the Spanish. Years of ADHD. Years of being bullied as a consequence and cause of considering myself worthless, and being selfish at the same time.

Dad and Mum, did I betray you? Would it have been different if I had been able to help you more? I will never know the answer. If I had been able to find God earlier...To find Love earlier...I would not have had to migrate out of Belgium for instance. But that idea of leaving was written deeply in me. Why?


In Panama, I have learned that Frank Gerry's biomuseum is finally open and we should go and visit it some of these days.