I believe

in laughter – the kind of infectious laughter that tsunamies through the crowd; the kind that brings tears to your eyes, makes you gasp for air, lets you loose all control, and allows you for seconds to forget about the misery of the world.

in good company – of friends that will go with you through thick and thin; of companions that will drink, dance, and sing with you until dawn; of apparent strangers that appear out of nowhere to pull you up when you’re down; company that makes you appreciate the beauty of the world and of life when you wonder what all this ‘being’ is for.

in justice – for the good and the bad; for the sinners and the saints; for the outcasts and the judges; for the rich and the poor; for the voiceless and the all mighty; for the shy and the extrovert; for those who hurt others and those who get hurt; for the “I” and the “We”; in justice that strikes when you least expect it.

in hope – for the hopeless, cases and people; the desperados, this side and the other side of the Rio Grande; for the sinners who want to become saints; for the hungry who want to eat; for the sick who want to get well; hope that gets stronger the more desperate the situation gets.

in time – that we spend with our friends, families, and fellow earthlings, with a lot of patience and tolerance; that we spend carefully as our most valuable asset – with the wind in our hair riding a motorbike, sailing on the ocean, running long-distance races, sitting on top of a mountain or the sea-side; that we invest in making ourselves and other people happy.

in life – with meaning that you cannot measure in dollars, euro, or any other currency; with compassion that will carry the most vulnerable and weak on its shoulders; with love that will make the world a better place; life that will never die, but continue in the hearts of the children of our generation’s children’s children…

We got a phone call from one of the surgeons when we were 10 minutes away from the UKE. She explained to me that, all in all, Pádraig’s operations had gone according to plan, and that he was on his way up to the ICU. When we arrived, we still had to wait for nearly 45 minutes before we were allowed in to see him. He had even more tubes attached to his body than before. It was one of those evenings where I asked myself how much more of this truly extraordinary life it was possible to take. The Stationsarzt came and explained to us how the operation had gone and how Pádraig had taken it: well enough, in a nutshell. When I said that this had probably been a very routing operation for them, he said yes, maybe the operation, but that Pádraig’s overall condition was anything but routine.

Even though I am tired, exhausted, doubtful, desperate, hurt – I believe and love.