Pieter will give me a cat, when I'm 22. A cat... instead of a baby. It's better than nothing, but it will break the cycle. There it goes, the familytradition around the magical number eleven. Actually I don't need to worry. I can still have a child on my thirty third birthday, no problem. Than the cat will be eleven, the son of my cousin will be eleven years older than the cat, I will be eleven years older than the boy, my cousin will always be eleven years older than I, my mother is eleven years older than my cousin, will my aunt is exactly eleven years older than my mother. And than you have my grandmother, eleven years older than my aunt. Just give the cat a place in the family tree and my child will also have a nice story to tell at birthdayparties.
Today I found out that checking email on time, is something to plan in your agenda every two hours. If I had just watched my Inbox, I would have seen that the UNSA meeting was replaced from 18:30 to 18:15. I miss the rythm of the South, the watch is not watching you there, the switch is switched off, the days have more hours than minutes... I miss it to translate Spanish stories of Susana Alvarez to my mother, while we are sitting on a kitchentable in Quito, I miss be hypnotized by Anthea Amansure in Eerste Rivier (South Africa) and be overprotected by my best friends on a sick fevermorning in Port Elizabeth. I miss all the places where I will never return alone. Some places leave a picture in your mind. The picture of yourself and the people on your side. This picture includes all the special smiles and frustrations, all the emptiness and joy, all the tears of happiness and homesickness, and most of all... it's filled with love. I can never return to New York, without seeing my mother, armed with her touristic cityguide, walking down Fifth Avenue. I will certainly start crying secretly when I'm standing alone in the crowd of Times Square, without mama who's bad-tempered because I ask her to take dozens of pictures of me and my favorite travel pet (Bees). I will not enjoy the American pizza as much as I did when I shared it with her. I will never ride a ostrich without missing Anne-Sophie and Els. I will never say "Que bestia" without picturing the face of my Japanese friend Miwa. I will never try to wear a veil, without it reminds me of Yasmine. . I still feel her inspiring voice, even though it was two years ago that we said goodbye. She was 25 that day in august 2005. Now she married, moved from Cairo to the USA and is the proud mother of one of the most beautiful children of the world. Yahia is the pure cuteness in a nappy. Just like baby Daniel from South-Africa, who's sometimes "full of nonsens", but never failes to make you feel weak inside.
I didn't mean to write so much, I didn't want to make so much mistakes. Everyday I learn that time heals, but the memory suffers every day a little more. But I'm sure, you are the one I will never forget. When you read this, you know that I think of you. The places we shared, the words and the worlds we exchanged, I save them... forever and a little longer.
Soon back... back soon...
Veerle
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