Pampar has, against the expectations of all in hospital and most who know him, beaten both death and the suffocating pools of water death placed in his lungs.
Mammar thought she lost him when his plane went down in the war. He pulled through then, he's pulled through again now. I thought he might, he's had his mettle tested many times and isn't likely to go easily.
I wonder if he's hanging out to meet his first great grandchild. It's a long time when you're blind and your organs are trying to pack up and retire on you, but I have my fingers crossed that he'll make the next couple of months and at least hear the news that he's paved the way for 3 subsequent generations. Better yet, we'll fly up there as soon as beloved is able and he can hold her in person.
Two ends of a lifeline arcing towards each other. Separated by the vicissitudes of birth and death.
A pub poem - My chip has fallen to the floor. The bar is crowded. I look down. *Sehnsucht*. A lawless longing for The unattainable. I frown.
19 hours ago