|Chris and Frani are in black vests; Todd has Sahara|
in his arms and Jessica is concealed behind them.
Hudson is in the front. This is in Autoire, France.
Click to enlarge.
Friday started off very weird: I woke up in mid-migraine. I don't ever recall doing that before.
My migraines, I am sure, are stress related, so it doesn't make sense to wake into one because sleep is, perhaps, my favourite activity. But that is how my day began…. opening my eyes to the flashing lights of an aura, and in such a situation my pills are useless. You have to take my pills at the onset of the aura, otherwise it is too late.
So I got on the bus and went out to UBC and there, I decided not to walk in the gardens but to go to Wreck Beach and being the time I call the penumbra of summer, I knew I would be blissfully alone. I had a lovely hour on warm but not hot sun and then I walked one of my favourite walks home with the sun on my back.
Today I fly to Victoria to spend the afternoon with Jessica, her husband, Todd, and family. Jessica's father, Chris, built the theatre I designed and we have been friends since 1974 when we u undertook that project. Chris' wife, Frani, is a loving sister to me and their daughter Jessica grew up in my heart.
And she married a miracle. I will never forget meeting him. He was sick and it was 6:00 am. I had been up for a while when he emerged from their bedroom, introduced himself and invited me to join him for a drive into town for a coffee. Then he showed me some of his work (he is a carpenter) around Whistler, all in French. I have been hooked since.
Sahara and Hudson are their kids. Each is, of course, unique, but their Uncle Chris loves visiting them because they are exactly the same to me: they are the only people in the world I can hug indefinitely, kiss and caress endlessly.
Human touch is vital but very hard for an old gay single man with no family to get. I long for it and sometimes cry over its absence, especially since seeing a scene in Tanzania when a baboon gave birth to a stillborn baby. I was alone with my driver in our truck when the mother came wailing out of the woods and we watched as all the baboons encircled her, the closest extending a hand to her and leaving those hands on her. There were probably 100 or more baboons silently sitting witness to her, with the closest constantly in touch. Today, I will get my fill of that rare and precious blessing.