Thursday night i was to meet him once again in madrid, with my hair straightened my excitement and nervous mixed with everything of the week that had been run through my mind i was in a blind state of panic and my head actually exploding until i prayed with a friend, so as i left chocolates in hand white coat blowing in the breeze i felt somehow composed.
I arrived late again but he was there calmly standing outside the restaurant texting on his phone he greeted me with two kisses and then asked if would like to speak to my mother, with a mix in tenses i said i hadnt spoken to her but managed to say youhavent spoken to her, he thought i was angry and as timing had it i had to wait while he took a call, i stood looking in the restuarant window trying to understand some of the menu other than the most expensive steak. As he came of the phone i said what i ment to say in slow and thoughout spainsh, it was just the two if us tonight and we were both tired, he had flown in at 5 am gone to the office at 8 and worked until we'd met, he would finish dinner and go back to his work, only to fly back out tomorrow morning. He was literally spending his only hours with me. wow, 80 hours a week a wife 3 kids and now a secret daughter, no wonder his heart was bad.
We sat in a deserted restaurant floor in the back corner as the restaurant owner came and attended to our every wim, we ate the finest meats, cheeses, followed by steak and red wine. He told me about his roots, the paintings on the wall were of his home region, they were beautiful and surreal and i hoped we would be able to go as he had mentioned and see it all. I asked after his life, whether he was happy, and what was important to him.
He gave me a gift, a new motorola flip camera phone, he was not only taking the number to phone me but to pay for my calls by credit card. It was simply real, dinner it felt so different from last time, it was just the two of us, father and daughter, we were here doing what i had come to do, build a relationship.
Friday, 30 March 2007
pushing it all away - over ice
it had been a crazy week, there was only one subject I had dreaded them teaching on, something that had paralyzed me with fear for years and I had successfully avoided dealing with, I had always been able to run, get plastered or simply switch off if there was really no way to leave the room or at very least the conversation.
This weeks teaching was on inner healing, not the new age stuff it sounds, it was quite simply emotional wounds that run so deep they affect your life, instigate irrational fears (and quite often behaviors) and create lies about yourself, distorted self perspective.
It had been 15 years and i had blocked it out to the point i couldn't really remember his face for a longtime, i couldn't really remember much of him, but whatever they had been a whole bunch of feeling that I wasn't about to go near, something so deep I didn't know how to deal with it if I tried.
The idea of calling god father had always been an impossible thing, with one dead and one denying I was his and having no part why would you put god with all those feelings, I knew god was good I knew he was there so why call him father?
Wednesdays class was the can opener, talking about memories and suppressing them things you have blocked out and recalling memories that had attached fears, they were asking me to think about stuff that belonged buried, how dare they go there or make me think about it, before the class was out i was checking my pockets, I ran upstairs grabbed some cash and escaped, in my mind I wrestled with the fact that i should be not only eating dinner as i hadn't signed my name off but i should be serving dinner on the cooking team, that I had an India meeting. But none of it mattered I was off. stopping dead about 10m before the bar, what was I thinking? tough, I went in ordered a large baileys - over ice (Spanish large baileys is about a glass full) sat down opened my journal and with it my head, I wrote about 10 pages over a few drinks and pushed aside the care as I put my euros in the cigarette machine. The question burned in my mind 'where were you?' as I thought and asked things of god I had never dared. I was drinking, smoking and wagging missionary school 'do you still love me now?'
Part of me feared this new territory in my relationship with god, and also a horrid realisation that with one of the questions and lines of thought, i didn't fully trust god, 'how can i trust you if i think you let him die?' had I come back to you with this suppressed? was our relationship built on a set of floorboards?
I went through my past that night everything I had ever pushed away, every relationship and pain, the 'fear of man' and pride they had talked about, where did that come from? I dissected everything but then that was processing with my mind and not the holy spirit, information wont change your life revelation will. WHO DO YOU SAY I AM?
As I sat there in that bar there was a sad freedom within a pile of chains the ciggarettes, the drinks the desire to up and leave in an exciting screw the world kinda fashion plane train or automobile lets see where we end up kind of way but there was greater freedom than this, there was indeed stuff you brought me here to deal with. I finished that night with three questions...
who do you say i am?
why have you brought me here?
why should i call you father?
This weeks teaching was on inner healing, not the new age stuff it sounds, it was quite simply emotional wounds that run so deep they affect your life, instigate irrational fears (and quite often behaviors) and create lies about yourself, distorted self perspective.
It had been 15 years and i had blocked it out to the point i couldn't really remember his face for a longtime, i couldn't really remember much of him, but whatever they had been a whole bunch of feeling that I wasn't about to go near, something so deep I didn't know how to deal with it if I tried.
The idea of calling god father had always been an impossible thing, with one dead and one denying I was his and having no part why would you put god with all those feelings, I knew god was good I knew he was there so why call him father?
Wednesdays class was the can opener, talking about memories and suppressing them things you have blocked out and recalling memories that had attached fears, they were asking me to think about stuff that belonged buried, how dare they go there or make me think about it, before the class was out i was checking my pockets, I ran upstairs grabbed some cash and escaped, in my mind I wrestled with the fact that i should be not only eating dinner as i hadn't signed my name off but i should be serving dinner on the cooking team, that I had an India meeting. But none of it mattered I was off. stopping dead about 10m before the bar, what was I thinking? tough, I went in ordered a large baileys - over ice (Spanish large baileys is about a glass full) sat down opened my journal and with it my head, I wrote about 10 pages over a few drinks and pushed aside the care as I put my euros in the cigarette machine. The question burned in my mind 'where were you?' as I thought and asked things of god I had never dared. I was drinking, smoking and wagging missionary school 'do you still love me now?'
Part of me feared this new territory in my relationship with god, and also a horrid realisation that with one of the questions and lines of thought, i didn't fully trust god, 'how can i trust you if i think you let him die?' had I come back to you with this suppressed? was our relationship built on a set of floorboards?
I went through my past that night everything I had ever pushed away, every relationship and pain, the 'fear of man' and pride they had talked about, where did that come from? I dissected everything but then that was processing with my mind and not the holy spirit, information wont change your life revelation will. WHO DO YOU SAY I AM?
As I sat there in that bar there was a sad freedom within a pile of chains the ciggarettes, the drinks the desire to up and leave in an exciting screw the world kinda fashion plane train or automobile lets see where we end up kind of way but there was greater freedom than this, there was indeed stuff you brought me here to deal with. I finished that night with three questions...
who do you say i am?
why have you brought me here?
why should i call you father?
Friday, 23 March 2007
missions & culture
It was Wednesday, I couldn't believe it was week 6 and we were already halfway through this weeks teaching, a Chilean couple teaching on missions and cultural diversity. The first half of the week had been a rocky start, defining the world by cold climate and warm climate they had spoken concerning cultural custom and approach, their teaching had a lot of valid points unfortunately the extreme examples had slightly offended most of us from cold climate culture as they seemed to defining direct as plain rude, it had caused tension in the ranks to say the least. But the basis was right that cold climate culture is driven by time money and work, you work to achieve and being slow at tasks eats into socialising and family time. Whereas in warm cultures they were more relational, work was a slow and social thing, the relationships always more important than the task.
The classes went on (and an apology was issued) the highlights of warm climate to cold climate approach really sank in. There really are a thousand ways to offend another culture even when you think your giving them the best. They had a point about the cold fish thing thought, you don't know hospitality until an African boy offers you a coke only to return 7 hours later with it having sold some belonging and walked Kms to to the nearest town get it, and what do we do... we send people away if we are busy we prioritise our time over relationships so many times and in general don't have a clue. An Indian man moved to Amsterdam and thought no-one liked him because they took his no to be no, not the customary invitation that is extended 3 times when you seriously want someones company in India.
The teaching built and started to cover other ways of separating and defining cultures, group or individualistic culture, in the west we are very much of mindset that we have individual rights and choices, when you go to the supermarket you get what you want even when in a group. If a group in a warm climate or group culture go they make the decision as a group, they go to the shops together, eat the same thing...together they buy the household stuff together and go out together. They are more open and inclusive in conversation is open to everyone, possessions are shared and seen as group possession (think of your siblings walking around in your clothes without asking or it being a big deal) Whereas individualistic culture value privacy, our own time and space, possessions are our property and not expected to be lent without first seeking permit ion. We choice our own food, we often eat separately or different meals and conversations are private you ask if you can join or if its private (usually of course there are exceptions to this)
The best points were that in group culture (often warm climate cultures) the person inviting pays everything for the invitees, if you say lets all go out to lunch you are offering to shout lunch for everyone, in individual culture you ask people out all the time, this is taken as invite for company unless otherwise stated this is your treat.
They went on to give statistics about how much of the world was 'reached' this is a christian mission term, in the bible it talks about go into all the world to to the nations and make disciples, (matt28 v 20) when it talks about every nation the original world used was etne which means ethinic group, there are currently roughly 24,000 known ethnic groups in the world, of which it is believed that 14,000 are 'un-reached'. However we discovered the term reached does not mean have all herd about jesus. If one church or one christian is recorded as being in that country it is deemed as 'reached' so actually to think that 10,000 ethnic groups have not yet herd or had access to hearing about jesus, the other 14,000 only have access to hearing about the gospel. Think about it, if your a christian - are you a lazy one?
The classes went on (and an apology was issued) the highlights of warm climate to cold climate approach really sank in. There really are a thousand ways to offend another culture even when you think your giving them the best. They had a point about the cold fish thing thought, you don't know hospitality until an African boy offers you a coke only to return 7 hours later with it having sold some belonging and walked Kms to to the nearest town get it, and what do we do... we send people away if we are busy we prioritise our time over relationships so many times and in general don't have a clue. An Indian man moved to Amsterdam and thought no-one liked him because they took his no to be no, not the customary invitation that is extended 3 times when you seriously want someones company in India.
The teaching built and started to cover other ways of separating and defining cultures, group or individualistic culture, in the west we are very much of mindset that we have individual rights and choices, when you go to the supermarket you get what you want even when in a group. If a group in a warm climate or group culture go they make the decision as a group, they go to the shops together, eat the same thing...together they buy the household stuff together and go out together. They are more open and inclusive in conversation is open to everyone, possessions are shared and seen as group possession (think of your siblings walking around in your clothes without asking or it being a big deal) Whereas individualistic culture value privacy, our own time and space, possessions are our property and not expected to be lent without first seeking permit ion. We choice our own food, we often eat separately or different meals and conversations are private you ask if you can join or if its private (usually of course there are exceptions to this)
The best points were that in group culture (often warm climate cultures) the person inviting pays everything for the invitees, if you say lets all go out to lunch you are offering to shout lunch for everyone, in individual culture you ask people out all the time, this is taken as invite for company unless otherwise stated this is your treat.
They went on to give statistics about how much of the world was 'reached' this is a christian mission term, in the bible it talks about go into all the world to to the nations and make disciples, (matt28 v 20) when it talks about every nation the original world used was etne which means ethinic group, there are currently roughly 24,000 known ethnic groups in the world, of which it is believed that 14,000 are 'un-reached'. However we discovered the term reached does not mean have all herd about jesus. If one church or one christian is recorded as being in that country it is deemed as 'reached' so actually to think that 10,000 ethnic groups have not yet herd or had access to hearing about jesus, the other 14,000 only have access to hearing about the gospel. Think about it, if your a christian - are you a lazy one?
Wednesday, 21 March 2007
Inbox
Wednesday ment something else, Beyond panic and Spanish cramming, but he hadn't phoned or replied to the email, he hadn't sent the mobile and i was starting to wonder if it was just words, was i being overly sensitive? or was it that his wife, 3 kids and job that often kept him busy till midnight would always come first? never mind why had i left it so late in life, why had i been so stupid as to put my hopes on the line?! There was a great fear inside that i had softened, that it was too good to be true and i had just let myself fall into something that would hurt me more than any of my past put together.
As I went to Madrid with the girls we sat in one of Sol's many coffee bars I tried to put my thoughts behind me as we started sorting some of the stuff for India, we would be leaving in a month and working with street kids and orphans we had been given the task of preparing songs, dramas, puppet shows and games.
As I stood in 'El Corte Inlges' the Spanish House of Fraiser, looking for a present for the next time I met my dad. my head wanted to explode and I felt overwhelmed, what could I get him that his wife and kids wouldn't notice on an already over stretched missionary budget, with special value for someone who you actually don't know? ...'one hundred things to see before you die'? for someone who had had three heart attacks and could die any day, good one Vic that would be a hilarous read for him i'm sure. Ok, a book on Manchester....he was no longer well enough to travel much...great. O.k think, an English book?... it screams your English sucks, was there anything i could get that would work? one of the girls suggested I draw, but what would i draw a picture of me and him, he couldn't have it at work or in his house.
As the bus sped through the mix of good and just plain didgy architecture out of Madrid and back to the tower block suburbs of Torrejon my mind wondered all over the place, The gift, how long my dad had left, the thought of him dying while i was here and being prepared for it, how would i feel about god and could i let go if he did?
Finally getting in I checked my emails and there it was, his letter. hoping to meet me next week, complete with a mobile for me and continuing the cultural exchange teaching each other the language, he sent his care and kisses. It was all too good to be true but there it was in my inbox to double check in the morning.
As I went to Madrid with the girls we sat in one of Sol's many coffee bars I tried to put my thoughts behind me as we started sorting some of the stuff for India, we would be leaving in a month and working with street kids and orphans we had been given the task of preparing songs, dramas, puppet shows and games.
As I stood in 'El Corte Inlges' the Spanish House of Fraiser, looking for a present for the next time I met my dad. my head wanted to explode and I felt overwhelmed, what could I get him that his wife and kids wouldn't notice on an already over stretched missionary budget, with special value for someone who you actually don't know? ...'one hundred things to see before you die'? for someone who had had three heart attacks and could die any day, good one Vic that would be a hilarous read for him i'm sure. Ok, a book on Manchester....he was no longer well enough to travel much...great. O.k think, an English book?... it screams your English sucks, was there anything i could get that would work? one of the girls suggested I draw, but what would i draw a picture of me and him, he couldn't have it at work or in his house.
As the bus sped through the mix of good and just plain didgy architecture out of Madrid and back to the tower block suburbs of Torrejon my mind wondered all over the place, The gift, how long my dad had left, the thought of him dying while i was here and being prepared for it, how would i feel about god and could i let go if he did?
Finally getting in I checked my emails and there it was, his letter. hoping to meet me next week, complete with a mobile for me and continuing the cultural exchange teaching each other the language, he sent his care and kisses. It was all too good to be true but there it was in my inbox to double check in the morning.
Saturday, 17 March 2007
pride comes before a fall
I had been dredding this weeks teaching ´Relationships´. everything in my past had been touched on so far either directly or indirectly and the timing was ironic the week I was set to see my dad I would be made to sit through teaching on relationships, no doubt all about your mistakes, failings and rejection of course some undignified red faced sit in the centre point and laugh synarios your paranoia loves to tease you over, and to top it off i had a cold which seemed to be manifesting as man flu - i was dying.
The teacher a small rounded guy from canada seemd harmless enough but I was just about at breaking point my nerves for wednesday didnt leave much room for anything else to be pushed right now. Much to my surpise though he opened with humour and talk of your relationship with god. Christianity is a relationship with god. he went on your view of yourself would affect every relationship you have with others. that was it, i knew it was coming.
But between the few shifts in bed resting with an mp3 of spanish I herd lectures on dying to self, love being kindness and patience, it wasnt quite the cop out it seemed though. It had been like a splinter that you wanted gone and you have prepared yourself for someone to take a needle and tweezers but to you horror they werent going to cause you pain becuase they werent going to remove it. I was almost frustrated that he wasnt touching the roots of things that hurt.
It was the last two days of the week when I was walking on cloud nine afterseeing my dad that the teaching got good, All love is vulnerable, if you have a poor image of god you will struggle to be intimate with him, we need to be disciplined but discipline is not more important than your relationship with god. conviction of the holy spirit was warning you were doing something inconsistant with your hearts desire - to be close to god. The last two days started to build.
Idolotry was when you start to de-value god in your life and value things or people higher leading to bad choices and inevitably hurt, if god is god and therefore pure he wants good for you and only good for you hence wanting the best for you, which if you keep your eyes on him he will lead you.
If relationship with god was so important so therefore was your relationship with others, how your doing with others was a good indicator of how your doing with god, how can you love god and yet reject people?
Everything went back to value, think that sin blocks out value? NO! they dont touch each other your sin distance you from god because your choosing your right of choice as higher than him causing distance in the relationship, your value is not ever effected! Not having a sense of value can be a roadblock, you spend time and energy raising your value in the eyes of other people becoming focused on self and competing for sense of value, this is pride.
Rejection feeds pride, pride is a boasting and bragging a keeness for others to know what you know, what youve done or where youve been, the desire for people to love you accept or respect you its your attempt to raise your value in their eyes. Pride starts with a defecit in value it can turn to complete narsacism or a poor me attitude a manipualtive i cant do anything right mentality which is designed for others to contradict and encourage in return.
Fear of man: walking through lie afraid of rejection to the point of walking on ice, a constant fear of rejection because of what you say do or act. Not playing sports for fear of being rubbish at it and therefore rejected, not singing out loud for fear of someone hearing you, judging and rejecting (in christian circles not singing in church, leading to an even greater fear of people thinking your not worshipping and therefore not holy) fear of praying out loud for people thinking your prayers arent good enough or not close enough to god and so pre-formulating prayers in your head) Just living for fear of what others think and consequently not following god first but what others think.
Unteachability or resistance to follow? seeing it as accepting a lower status, if you have had only a chain of bad leaders in life, education church or organisation even work, likelyhood is you need to check your pride. Broken trail of reltaionships? nothing breaks relationships quicker than pride, its selfish and about you.
Intimacy is achieved through kindness, patience, valuing that other person more than yourself, not being jelous, extending grace and getting rid of pride. As the lesson finished I sat slightly blown away it had struck every cord in my spine so uncomfortably that i wanted prayer but finally this was teaching that didnt wish-wash over anything. I had no idea I struggled so much with pride, but when hed described it i felt like he was describing everything i hate about myself! something that when other people complement or praise you, you think íf only you knew me´this was that very side he had described. It was a vicious circle, events of your past leaving you feeling worthless, fear of rejection resulting in actions of pride which results in: fear of exposure which results in: fear of intimacy which results in: rejection of people, which results in: rejection of you compounding everything you were scared of in the first place.
I wanted rid of every proud thought, action and mentality, I always thought the darker side of my personality was surpressed grief something I was so terrified they would dig up here and make me deal with that i had started smoking and drinking in the build up to coming out here, but it turned out to be just a symtom of the past, simply a block in relationship with god that could be got through.
The teacher a small rounded guy from canada seemd harmless enough but I was just about at breaking point my nerves for wednesday didnt leave much room for anything else to be pushed right now. Much to my surpise though he opened with humour and talk of your relationship with god. Christianity is a relationship with god. he went on your view of yourself would affect every relationship you have with others. that was it, i knew it was coming.
But between the few shifts in bed resting with an mp3 of spanish I herd lectures on dying to self, love being kindness and patience, it wasnt quite the cop out it seemed though. It had been like a splinter that you wanted gone and you have prepared yourself for someone to take a needle and tweezers but to you horror they werent going to cause you pain becuase they werent going to remove it. I was almost frustrated that he wasnt touching the roots of things that hurt.
It was the last two days of the week when I was walking on cloud nine afterseeing my dad that the teaching got good, All love is vulnerable, if you have a poor image of god you will struggle to be intimate with him, we need to be disciplined but discipline is not more important than your relationship with god. conviction of the holy spirit was warning you were doing something inconsistant with your hearts desire - to be close to god. The last two days started to build.
Idolotry was when you start to de-value god in your life and value things or people higher leading to bad choices and inevitably hurt, if god is god and therefore pure he wants good for you and only good for you hence wanting the best for you, which if you keep your eyes on him he will lead you.
If relationship with god was so important so therefore was your relationship with others, how your doing with others was a good indicator of how your doing with god, how can you love god and yet reject people?
Everything went back to value, think that sin blocks out value? NO! they dont touch each other your sin distance you from god because your choosing your right of choice as higher than him causing distance in the relationship, your value is not ever effected! Not having a sense of value can be a roadblock, you spend time and energy raising your value in the eyes of other people becoming focused on self and competing for sense of value, this is pride.
Rejection feeds pride, pride is a boasting and bragging a keeness for others to know what you know, what youve done or where youve been, the desire for people to love you accept or respect you its your attempt to raise your value in their eyes. Pride starts with a defecit in value it can turn to complete narsacism or a poor me attitude a manipualtive i cant do anything right mentality which is designed for others to contradict and encourage in return.
Fear of man: walking through lie afraid of rejection to the point of walking on ice, a constant fear of rejection because of what you say do or act. Not playing sports for fear of being rubbish at it and therefore rejected, not singing out loud for fear of someone hearing you, judging and rejecting (in christian circles not singing in church, leading to an even greater fear of people thinking your not worshipping and therefore not holy) fear of praying out loud for people thinking your prayers arent good enough or not close enough to god and so pre-formulating prayers in your head) Just living for fear of what others think and consequently not following god first but what others think.
Unteachability or resistance to follow? seeing it as accepting a lower status, if you have had only a chain of bad leaders in life, education church or organisation even work, likelyhood is you need to check your pride. Broken trail of reltaionships? nothing breaks relationships quicker than pride, its selfish and about you.
Intimacy is achieved through kindness, patience, valuing that other person more than yourself, not being jelous, extending grace and getting rid of pride. As the lesson finished I sat slightly blown away it had struck every cord in my spine so uncomfortably that i wanted prayer but finally this was teaching that didnt wish-wash over anything. I had no idea I struggled so much with pride, but when hed described it i felt like he was describing everything i hate about myself! something that when other people complement or praise you, you think íf only you knew me´this was that very side he had described. It was a vicious circle, events of your past leaving you feeling worthless, fear of rejection resulting in actions of pride which results in: fear of exposure which results in: fear of intimacy which results in: rejection of people, which results in: rejection of you compounding everything you were scared of in the first place.
I wanted rid of every proud thought, action and mentality, I always thought the darker side of my personality was surpressed grief something I was so terrified they would dig up here and make me deal with that i had started smoking and drinking in the build up to coming out here, but it turned out to be just a symtom of the past, simply a block in relationship with god that could be got through.
Friday, 16 March 2007
Yo tengo un papa
It was friday morning and i was still smiling despite the musical nose snot and tiredness nothing was going to make me depressed (not even being rubbish bored and discouraged at football) Yo tengo una papa, i had a father.
It had been like a fairytale the kind that you dont allow yourself to think about, it had been the kind of night and conversation that you never allow your mind to imagine, its like i had cut it out with an anesthetic. I didnt realize till i herd those words how much my past had effected me.
I couldnt wait until next week, hopefully i would have shifted this stupid cold and figured out to loose the ridiculous amount of weight i seemed to be putting on get my head in the books and go deeper into conversation with him.
His english had been amazing, he had had 4 hours of one on one per week for the last 7 weeks, he´d joked with my mother that his english teacher was rich but that he now spoke english. We had both been so nervous and spent the last month or two preparing. I hadnt realized quite how emotional it had been until i spoke with my other the tears streaming down my face as i recounted his words.
Nothing was going to touch my mood, yo tengo un papa.
It had been like a fairytale the kind that you dont allow yourself to think about, it had been the kind of night and conversation that you never allow your mind to imagine, its like i had cut it out with an anesthetic. I didnt realize till i herd those words how much my past had effected me.
I couldnt wait until next week, hopefully i would have shifted this stupid cold and figured out to loose the ridiculous amount of weight i seemed to be putting on get my head in the books and go deeper into conversation with him.
His english had been amazing, he had had 4 hours of one on one per week for the last 7 weeks, he´d joked with my mother that his english teacher was rich but that he now spoke english. We had both been so nervous and spent the last month or two preparing. I hadnt realized quite how emotional it had been until i spoke with my other the tears streaming down my face as i recounted his words.
Nothing was going to touch my mood, yo tengo un papa.
Thursday, 15 March 2007
The dream
Last night I had a dream, I walked onto a train bound for Madrid center. I had perfect straight hair and a long white trenchcoat, with a set of heels and a handbag and composed myself to see my natural farther after 8 years.
Fourty five minutes late I skipped out of the first train station to the nearest phone box and explained in perfect spanish that i was running late but was on my way, the voice at the other end reasured me to stay where I was and he would come to get me.
In a loving embrace he kissed me on both cheeks and told me how I looked just like my mother had, he gazed into my eyes in astonishment that this was his daughter. Taking me across town to a restaurant with his typical home food and cider that is poured over the barmans head to a glass down the bottom of his back we shared the finest meats cheeses, red wine steak dessert and coffee while he spoke english and I spoke spanish, there was no confussion only a nervous but perfect atmosphere. His friend of 30 years who remembered my mother sat with us as we talked of food, the language, travel, work and the work i would be doing in india.
He called a cab for me but as it arrived he suggested his friend take it as he had important things to share with me. He told me of the past, he told me he was my father and was here now and always, that he would take care of everything. That I had had a farther who was an amazing man for what he did, but he was around no longer. I was his daughter and he loved me, anything i needed i was to call, he would send me a cellphone so he could speak to me. He said looked forward to see me again next week, and kissed me warmly on each cheek before putting me in my cab.
Only thing was this wasnt a dream.
Fourty five minutes late I skipped out of the first train station to the nearest phone box and explained in perfect spanish that i was running late but was on my way, the voice at the other end reasured me to stay where I was and he would come to get me.
In a loving embrace he kissed me on both cheeks and told me how I looked just like my mother had, he gazed into my eyes in astonishment that this was his daughter. Taking me across town to a restaurant with his typical home food and cider that is poured over the barmans head to a glass down the bottom of his back we shared the finest meats cheeses, red wine steak dessert and coffee while he spoke english and I spoke spanish, there was no confussion only a nervous but perfect atmosphere. His friend of 30 years who remembered my mother sat with us as we talked of food, the language, travel, work and the work i would be doing in india.
He called a cab for me but as it arrived he suggested his friend take it as he had important things to share with me. He told me of the past, he told me he was my father and was here now and always, that he would take care of everything. That I had had a farther who was an amazing man for what he did, but he was around no longer. I was his daughter and he loved me, anything i needed i was to call, he would send me a cellphone so he could speak to me. He said looked forward to see me again next week, and kissed me warmly on each cheek before putting me in my cab.
Only thing was this wasnt a dream.
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