It is hard to believe after three days of stormy, windy weather that I woke up to a clear morning, slowly shaking off the bleakness of the days before
It was still raining for most of the night, but started to clear in the early hours. Now the air is crisp and clean, the sun is making an attempt to come out and the only signs of the hell over the weekend are the footpaths littered with small tree branches and leaves.
Annie is still in a lot of pain in England, waiting to see if they are going to operate. Her back is giving her a lot of grief. It is so hard being on the other side of the world when your daughter is suffering so much. She is a trooper and you would have loved the person your granddaughter has become.
I was awake in the middle of the night, thinking about Annie, trying hard to piss and questioning myself about whether this story was even worth being told. Who am I to dredge over the ills of the past and bring all this murkiness to the surface?
I have no idea really, why I embarked on this mission. It just seemed like something I had to do, almost like the passage of the storm. Hopefully the air will be clearer once it is finished and it will help me face the future with a better understanding of the past.
Talking about the future; I am not feeling that great about it at the moment. My hands are not doing what they are meant to, and typing or even trying to hold on to little pills is getting harder. The legs seem to have their own instruction kit, seemingly unmoved by orders from the brain.
The sense of urgency seems to grow more potent by the day, the little signs mount up and I need to clear the rubbish from my past before the darkness sweeps me away.
I hope this makes sense to you