Once upon a time in Paris

Willpower is a source of great might. And yet it can only take you so far against the biology of time. 

Almost 33 years ago, we flew across continents to settle in South Africa, and after 17 years of calling it our home, we all gradually returned to the motherland. I have no regrets at how the sand has flowed through the hourglass. For better or worse, we stuck it out as a family. It is now when it seems that the last grain is about to drop on one of us, that the sadness overwhelms me. 

"It's later than you think!" Says the quote re-used in the 2022 movie The Adam Project.

I know.

I've always known...

At the end of every road is a reckoning. A metaphorical excel sheet that puts in balance the right's and wrong's of the past and present. Faithful or not, the legacy you leave behind is your reckoning.

Throughout the years, I've seen people waste time on consumable items. Sometimes those items have been other people.

I've also wasted time on frivolities instead of evolving. No judgement there for the general struggle of the human condition.

And yet...My advice to my own younger self, if I could go back in time, would be: "Learn faster!"

My father, through all his flaws and personal demons, taught me above all else one master lesson:

"Believe!"

Believe in a higher purpose...believe in your strength...believe in the unbelievable...

A mantra that I've never verbalised yet inherently believed ever since I was a child.

One of the last coherent memories I shared to him was of me, up on his shoulders, helping him to paint the ceiling of that old, intergenerational apartment that had once housed 5 souls during cold, winter nights and scorching summer months.

"Close your eyes, and believe the paint will dry!" 

"Is it dry?" I'd asked.

"Yes it is!" He'd lied.

Yesterday, I took my own family to a South African barbecue fest in Leuven. We were late because I'd once again tried to squeeze as much time through the eye of a busy Saturday. I wanted to send him a photo of the flags and the barbecues. I wanted to remind him of our past. Maybe that memory would help give him more time...or rather give me more time with him.

They were out of sausage rolls, the kids were hungry, and we'd argued on the way. A couple of minutes and the weather changed to thunderstorms and rain. It reminded me of our pitstop in Bern last year. We'd stood under that same red umbrella, a different sadness of loss at that time for me, yet still smiling at what was...and still could be...

If my younger self could travel to the future to advise me now, she'd probably just say:

"Close your eyes, and believe he'll stay!"