Sitting in Bangkok airport waiting to board the plane to return to England for my dad's funeral I was struck by the tenderness between this old Chinese couple. Admittedly grief had done the emotional equivalent of removing top few layers of skin leaving me open to every nuance, positive and negative that surrounded me. However this love touched me deeply. He had spread a newspaper over her to ward off the icy chill of the air con, opened his jacket to shield her eyes from the light and he held her hands, both of them - to reassure her that she could sleep, peaceful and safe under his protective gaze.
Showing posts from April, 2009
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(photo taken April 13, post made May 8) The streets are wet, not with rain but with water from 100 buckets and water-pistols. Bangkok was under a state of emergency (red shirts this time) but Chiang Mai was in the state of chaos that is the annual Thai New Year celebrations called Songkhran. But in the end this was simply the day my dad died. Nothing more to be said.
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Firefox can't find the server at www.thenorthlands.net because our evil web hosts have done a disappearing act taking our beloved forum, blogs, galleries, years of posts not to mention three years' advanced webspace rental, with them. I am here to be quietly miserable. Alone. Northlands' family has returned to its original HQ and what seems to be a bunker in times of crisis - Northlands Fantasy . But I don't really want to be there. That is the place Dom established with Kirk and Dan. I loved it. It is, after all, where we fell in love. But it isn't mine. It is like having your 3 bedroomed home repossessed and having to move back into your lover's bachelor pad. Yeah, better than sleeping under a bridge. Marginally. Don't know what to do. But in the meantime, I will be here, licking my wounds. Die webspace depot. Die.