Abe must write because, by doing so, he is able to play god and all the morons receive just retribution.
And because everybody lives up to his (high) expectations and if they do not, they dieeeeeeee.
Conclusively, this will make for a better world.

Sunday, 2 December 2012

The Stranger and His Son

Below is a short piece I wrote last year December. It had been intended for the website I was having built at the time but that has been indefinitely postponed. Nonetheless, being that time of year, here it is for your pleasure.

The Stranger and his son
There's a man who I have seen a few times in the Starbucks I go to to write. My guess would be that he is in his 50s or 60s. Having been here for the last two days, as well as seeing him on a number of previous occasions, I think it's safe to say he comes in here every day. I think its somewhat a routine for him. He comes in with his disabled son. I wouldn’t be able to tell you what kind of disability he has but to contextualise and help you to visualise (without hopefully coming across as ignorant) I would compare it to that of Stephen Hawkins, who has a motor neurone disease.

I still vividly remember the first time I saw this man with his son. It was early December, I was sat in my usual seat and White Christmas was playing. When I’m usually writing, I tend to look up and around me. It was then that I spotted the man and his son. I reckon his son is in his 20s but it is clear that he is fully dependent. My heart went out to him because I know that nobody prays/wishes for a disabled child, nor does anyone ever imagine that they will have to look after their child for the rest of their life. And whereas there are many people who might not be able to deal with this and, perhaps, opt to, understandably, put their child in care, there are those who choose to take it upon themselves to dedicate their lives to taking care of another. For this, he has my utmost respect, despite the little I know about him.

I wanted to speak to him, ask him about his life, just understand and know things. But maybe he wouldn’t appreciate me asking these questions. As I type this now, I am looking. If he sees me looking, he might think I’m staring in ignorance. Luckily, he does not catch me as I continue to glance in admiration of his dedication to his son. 

Maybe one day I'll see him again and have the courage to speak to him, ask questions.

One man’s life-sentence is another man’s duty of love.

Currently listening to: Michael Jackson - Why You Wanna Trip on me

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