Monday, December 30, 2013


Pulling himself up and steadying his arm on the low wall against which he had been sleeping, he looked across and narrowed his eyes in the direction of the car’s passenger seat.

“I had a dream last night,” he said, “that this would happen.”

For some time I had been asking W if he wanted (and was prepared) to see his father on the street and the opportunity finally arose this week. Earlier in the day, I had shown W a recent picture of Enildo so that the shock would not be an impairment to the reunion. The last time father saw son and vice versa was two years ago when I took the brothers from the rescue house to visit Enildo in rehab (before the relapse and his return to crack).

He stared at the image - sunken cheeks, rotten teeth - and closed his eyes.

But he was ready, he said, and Enildo too had been anxious to see W but (as always) was unable to leave the degradation of which he is now sadly accustomed. Nonetheless (and, perhaps, needless to say), they were thrilled to see each other.

I left them alone to catch up, and W told me later that he shared the sad news that his mum and step-dad (together with the six children) had been evicted from their apartment. News which - if I was to be honest - had made me angry when I first heard it, simply out of frustration in knowing that Enildo is in the same place as he was three years’ ago and that he is the father to five of those children.

Nonetheless, my love for this family remains unabated and notwithstanding the pain I feel when I look at pictures from two years ago, my hope is that the reunion with his eldest son will in some small way speak to Enildo about opportunity and loss.

1 comment:

ania said...

Man, this picture really shows the difference...don't give up on him...

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