12 Wednesday Feb 2014
Posted in death & dying, friends
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I was walking home late after a tapas tour and passed by the bar where my friend Antonio used to work part time, to help support his “photography habit“. And suddenly I stopped and stared into the window for I don’t know how long, still not believing that I would never see Antonio again. That I’d never be able to go into that bar again and complain to him about the crap wine. That in fact I’d never be able to go into that bar again at all. It hurts.
27 Monday Jan 2014
Posted in death & dying, friends, sevilla
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I just found out today that my friend Antonio Cid died on January 3rd. Well, we weren’t close friends, but I’ve known him for years and we just kind of “clicked” somehow. We used to see each other more often before I moved away from barrio Santa Cruz, where he worked part time at a bar near my old place. I hadn’t seen him in a couple of months and I think our last “encounter” was a jokey thing said on Twitter. And now I’ll never see him again. How can this be? Antonio was a kind and gentle soul, and also a gifted photographer. Have a look…
10 Saturday Nov 2012
Posted in death & dying, video
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Interesting, but not at all comforting…
09 Tuesday Oct 2012
Posted in animals & pets, cats, change, death & dying, home, love
Remember Azar having a drink out of his special glass after brekky a couple of months ago? That was before things (literally) blew up with the tumour and it seemed like he’d still be around for a good while. He always took care to make sure he got lots to drink and for the past couple of years he’d had a few different drinking glasses, but this was his last one.
After he died it was so hard to let go of little things and so when it came time to either toss this glass or find a new use for it I decided to fill it up permenantly and leave it on the top shelf in the bathroom where I always used to keep it, waiting for Azar to come and ask for a drink.
Sometimes seeing it makes me sad, other times it makes me smile, but it always makes me remember how much I loved bringing him a drink and telling him what a clever boy he was. Nothing else I was doing would ever be more important and it was always good to stop and have those few precious moments. I think it’s good to be reminded of that.
29 Saturday Sep 2012
Posted in cats, change, death & dying, home, hope, life stuff
When Azar died I said in another blog post that I finally understood why people want to believe in Heaven, and I also finally understood the concept of graves. Ever since I made the somewhat rash decision to bury Azar in a square near my house I realised that I actually took comfort in him still being “close to home” and that I can see the trees from my bedroom window and know that he is resting below them. I know it doesn’t make any sense, and I know it’s just his remains there, but I somehow need him to be nearby.
I actually waited almost two weeks before I revisited his grave, in case it had been disturbed, because I didn’t know what I’d do if Azar was no longer there. But I found it just as we’d left it, and since then I’ve wandered by many times and stop to say a few words.
My most beautiful boy.
casa azahar 