We swapped roles and experiences today (kind of).

Pádraig had an absolutely brilliant day out and about the Royal Canal, the railway bridge in Drumcondra and Quinn’s pub, last stop before Croke Park, pre-match. Later on he was listening to the highlight of this year’s sporting calendar, the (gaelic) football final, sitting out in the garden, so he could hear it live (the wind carried the sound from the stadium) and on the wireless. He got a Dublin flag from a street trader and had a couple of ice creams sitting outside in the warm-ish September afternoon, enjoying a thrilling match.

In turn, I had gone back to bed after a late breakfast and slept it all out until late afternoon, trying to get over a cold or a flu or whatever it was that made me feel ancient and useless and without even a bit of energy. What made it all worse was that all the time I felt that I cannot really afford to get a flu or to stay in bed. It’s a frightening thought. A sad one too.

I’m sure, I’ll be over the worst tomorrow.

You must know “Despacito“. The song has almost 4 billion views on youtube.

The other day one of Pádraig’s friends said: “Have you listened to the lyrics?”, with an undertone of incredulity that such an overt, well, sensual?, song made it to Number 1 around the world. It’s a great song, full of rhythm, and, because it’s in Spanish, hard to understand for most of us.  I looked it up on the web.

Despacito
Quiero desnudarte a besos despacito
Firmo en las paredes de tu laberinto
Y hacer de tu cuerpo todo un manuscrito (sube, sube, sube)
(Sube, sube)
Quiero ver bailar tu pelo
Quiero ser tu ritmo
Que le enseñes a mi boca
Tus lugares favoritos (favoritos, favoritos baby)

Déjame sobrepasar tus zonas de peligro
Hasta provocar tus gritos
Y que olvides tu apellido (Diridiri, dirididi Daddy)

(In case you missed your Spanish classes in school, you might want to consult google translate or search for the English version:).

It’s pretty clear what the song is all about, though I was surprised that someone would find it a little too explicit. Maybe I’m too old?

I remember what happened when, many years ago, I was driving through Spain in an old VW Beatle and proudly played a song that had been Number 1 in Germany for many months, to my Spanish and Irish friends. It was Bobby Brown by Frank Zappa. My Spanish friends loved the song, my Irish friends couldn’t stop giggling. Eventually, I decided to swap tapes. Now, to my excuse, these were times when PCs did not exist, neither did the internet or the web (to check the lyrics and get them translated:).

Stuff that sounds good, maybe great, or even absolutely amazing can turn out slightly different once you start understanding it, or – if you don’t understand it yourself – once you share it with people who do.

The most amazing event in the most amazing venue organised by the most amazing people, tonight brought together people affected by suicide, acquired brain injury and both. For the first time ever in Ireland.

To me, it was like the beginning of a new era, a new movement that would shake things up. And it came from people who had decided that something needed to be done and they did it. That simple. There were no committees, no big inter-organisational meetings, no board, no signed agreements. They just did what they felt needed to be done. It was like a breadth of really really fresh air.

Thank you to the Breslin Family and their Friends who organised this incredible night in support of Pieta House, ABI Ireland, and the An Saol Foundation! Thank you to all who joined us tonight and made this a night to remember!

Thursdays are fun days when Pádraig’s friends come to the house to share with him what is going on in their lives, to have some fun, and packets of biscuits.

So maybe, it wasn’t such a bad idea after all, to service his ceiling hoist – a service that included the super-weight test: having a box full of really heavy weights, making up more than 140kg, being lifted up by the hoist.

Today, the kitchen was packed with his friends for almost four hours, a time full of laughter, jokes, and biscuit eating. You could see, hear and feel the delight of these hours.These were the dreamboaters, the future, the energy and the tomorrow. All in safe hands.

Water finds a way.

So will we.

(Downpipes on a house in Parnell Square the other day when one of the worst showered ever came down on the city.)

If it’s worthwhile, do it slowly; simple; and in style.

This is what Mr Zapp’s grandfather told his grandson. And this is what Mr Zapp and his wife have been doing over the past 17 years as they have been traveling the world in a 90 year old car. Mr Zapp says, there is no way you could drive that car at speed. The mechanics of the car are so simple you could get it fixed literally anywhere in the world; and, he said, look at it – could you imagine anything more stylish than this beautiful old car? – They had four kids in the process who are now traveling with them and who they school as they travel along.

We haven’t been traveling the world.

But there is an elegance and a style, a very personal ‘stamp’ Pádraig has been putting on his recovery. His very slow recovery. In a simple, uncomplicated, straight forward way. Yesterday, he stood up, with a bit of help, and held his head up high, without any help. Even though he managed to do this for only a few seconds. Today, when we went swimming, he stood up high and tall in the water, holding on to the side bar of the pool with his hands, and pushing his heels firmly down into the bottom of the pool – and he did this not just once but three times. Elegantly, slowly, and simply just standing up.

Zapp!

We finally chose to walk like giants
and hold the world in arms grown strong with love.

A friend sent this image to me this afternoon. I find it hard to think of anything more beautiful tonight: that we hold the world in arms grown strong with love.

And that is something we will never forget.

This moment.

Moving through. Whatever barrier there is. Don’t let it stop you. Just keep going. Look at this sculpture. Isn’t it amazing?

I hadn’t expected to find this in the Botanic Gardens. It must be sculpture week because there’s almost more sculptures than trees in the Botanics this week. It’s fantastic. And it’s free.

There was another sculpture that really caught my eye and it is one that consists of a row of bottles that are being used to feed people directly into their stomach. I immediately recognised the shape and the colour of the top. We went over, looked at it and read the explanation by the artist explaining that each of these bottle represents a day of struggle and hope that things would get better for her baby who was born prematurely.

Eventually, we got soaked. The rain was torrential. Both Pádraig and myself smiled. What a great feeling: the rain on your skin, the wind blowing into your face so hard that you just about manage to breathe, the smell, the noise, the feel…. Isn’t life great!

That’s the distance. It’s unique in Europe and one of the most famous in the world. It’s 97 years old this year. No other capital has a swimming race through the middle of the city. When Bernard Fagan started it, he wanted to show off the good quality of the Liffey water.

Today, Maria brought a couple of Coca-Colas with her because she had been told last year by a friend that a Coke would kill all the germs in the Liffey water she swallowed. She did really well today and had great fun.

After the start of the race, Pádraig popped into Heather’s on the quays on their last day of trading after 150 years. It was the one and only shoe shop in Dublin that sold shoes for people with really large feet. Pádraig picked up a pair of original clogs. The closure of the shoe shop which originally had been a drapery store after decades and decades was such a big event that it made the main news today.

It was a good, relaxed day today, when we left our troubles behind and didn’t worry about tomorrow (too much). It’ll come. Anyways. And, of course, we haven’t got the faintest of what it’ll bring.

Who wants to be a millionaire? Honestly?! Two nights in a row, Pádraig had a brilliant time making choices, asking the audience, ringing a friend, asking for a 50:50. The thing is: there was no need to ring a friend, because it was his friends who played the iconic game with him, always with the most tasty biscuits and a straight cupotea….

Try to see it my way.

Talking about friends. I spend the evening, a Friday evening, with a friend who is helping me to plan and cost (and, hopefully, implement) the premises for the An Saol Project. I promise you: if this works out, there will be the biggest party ever in premises that would be unaffordable if they were in NY or in the London docklands. Simply breath-taking!

We can work it out. Life is very short, and there’s no time for fussing and fighting, my friend.