Pádraig is learning to make himself heard again. During the night when he is uncomfortable. In the morning when we ‘sing’ along to ‘Colours’, the version recorded in Whelan’s backyard by Maitiú and Friends. When he finds it difficult to be lifted into and out of his wheelchair. There is more to come, without a doubt.
He is making progress. All the time. We all believe that he has this magic that keeps him going and us doing things we never believed in our wildest dreams we would ever attempt. He is the reason for people doing the the craziest things, for people opening their hearts, for people joining across the world in love. (Autsch, I hear you say: world peace?)
A year ago, a logo therapist tried to persuade Pádraig to have a tiny little bit of ice-cream. In his cell we could only enter with the permission of the nurses, dressed up in protective gowns and our faces covered with big masks. – Today, Pat went out for a walk with Pádraig in the sun into the park beside the stream passing by an ice-cream parlour where she bought an xxl “Kugel” for him with a wafer all of which Pádraig finished with ‘gusto’.
I’ll be off tomorrow for a few days. First visiting my sister and family, returning the Ferrari-red Korean Picanto full of memories and abandoned hope and plans. Getting a late night plane back to Dublin, getting the new full-blooded Italian Doblò. Emptying sheds and kitchen for the building work soon to be started. Driving back via England across the seas and through tunnels under the sea. The best part of 20 hours. Loads of time to think…