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Chuffed, I am!

Early in the morning of August 27, Gaby’s dad passed away.

As I write this, Gaby’s on that flight, crossing the Atlantic.

Fridi’s lust for life was incredible and will always be an inspiration for me.

A memory I will cherish forever. The first time he came over to Belgium was also the first time we met in person. At that point, Gaby was already living with me.

One grey snowy day the two of us were walking down the street and he all of a sudden came to a halt. Fridi looked at me solemnly, grabbed my right hand, and spoke to me in Spanish. “Mano” was about the only word I understood — my Spanish was pretty much non-existent at the time. When he finished, he gave me a faux stern look, and I grinned sheepishly and uttered “si, si, heh heh!”

When we arrived home, I told Gaby as best I could what he had been talking to me about, even though I hadn’t understood most of what he had said. She smiled for a moment, then responded: “He meant to tell you: ‘I hereby offer you the hand of my daughter.’”

I’ll miss you much Fridi, as will countless others.

Last year, these two weeks were marked by the loss of Emma. As such they were recovery days rather than holidays.

This year things are different, though strangely similar. Gaby’s again pregnant, over six months now. We’ve been lucky. The kid’s a kicker, and so far he’s passed all the hurdles that come with a pregnancy. His big sister, no doubt, is watching over him. It looks like, three months from now, I am going to be a dad. I’m elated, scared shitless, and anxiously awaiting the month of November.

Yesterday, we got news that Gaby’s dad is not doing well. As in: “this may well not last too long.” Cancer is an ugly son of a bitch. Treacherous. Vile. Merciless.

As my two weeks of holiday commence, we find ourselves hunting down cheap airplane tickets to Argentina. To be there and, perhaps, to say goodbye. And with every new belly kick, we are reminded that there is new life awaiting us. Coming back.

Come November.

You seek knowledge and insight in every form possible. You love learning. And while you know a lot, you don’t act like a know it all. You’re open to learning you’re wrong.

You ask a lot of questions, collect a lot of data, and always dig deep to find out more. You’re naturally curious and inquisitive. You jump to ask a question when the opportunity arises.

Your friends see you as interesting, insightful, and thought provoking. (But they’re not always up for the intense inquisitions that you love!)

You excel in: Higher education

You get along best with: The Comma

What Punctuation Mark Are You?

Fair enough. First draft, pen and ink:

Scan! Colorize! We’ve about half an hour to go. This is where Gaby’s talent comes in:

Print! Glue! Scissors! Viola.

Happy birthday Isken. :)

Seemed like the perfect timing to upgrade Gaby’s weblog to WP’s latest version. Did an Extreme MakeOver™ of the theme while at it. Gabriela got me kick-started with a very inspirational autumn inspired header image:

… upon which it was only a matter of picking colors, crunching html tags, css declarations and php commands:

I’m quite satisfied with the way it turned out… Yet I can’t wait for spring to arrive again. Guess I’m not an autumn person.

More snapshots here.

Emma was buried last Tuesday, after a short ceremony. It was a warm and sunny day. Above is the memorial stone Gaby and I made the day before, to lay on her grave. The last song we played in her honour was Astronaut by Lais and Spinvis. For that is what she is now: weightless, listening to the planets that sing softly of the wonders that await her.

To all who have commented here, emailed us, or made a phonecall: it warms our heart to know you’re out there caring. It is often said that Music Is The Best — and in the end it probably is. But right now, you guys are the best.

Thank you.