Hello, son,
It’s March 7th and today we celebrated your month-iversary a day late.
You’re now 11 months old!
Today I saw you get on all fours for the first time by yourself. You’re so funny, you want to go everywhere.
It’s strange to think that in a month you’ll be 1 year old.
It all goes by fast despite everything.
Preparing for a return home
These past 2 days, I went back home.
(which is why we celebrated your birthday a day late)
The goal was to bring back some of the things we had here to the apartment, but also to see the state of the house, organize things a bit, clean, and prepare for your upcoming arrival.
Fortunately your mom had already done a tremendous amount of things remotely. She contacted several people to fix different problems. Your uncle also added a small roof along the wall of your room to protect the house from the rain, because moisture was getting in a lot.
Yesterday we worked all day. There were holes in the walls and in the floor because of the moisture.
The house is a fisherman’s house that we renovated. It’s located above the lagoons and during the rainy season water often rises into the walls.
We fixed quite a few things. We also installed a new air conditioner to better control the humidity and maintain a stable temperature for you.
The AC works… but the remote doesn’t. Impossible to control it. So I filed a warranty claim today. The joys of last-minute installations.
I want to thank the people who helped us. Francisco for the air conditioning, André for the floor work, Éric for his help, and Zé who often lends us a hand, and then Larissa and Cleane for the cleaning. And of course your mom who managed a large part of the logistics from the apartment.
Your mom is very good at organizing this kind of logistical operation. Me, it’s the opposite. When there are too many people or too many things to coordinate, I quickly feel overwhelmed. I prefer to work alone.
But overall everything went well.
I managed to prepare your room. It’s exactly as we had made it when you were born. The frames are in the same place. The furniture too.
As a reminder, we had managed to come home 2 days after your birth before having to go back to the hospital.
The only difference today is that there’s medical equipment in your room.
And that feels strange.
Honestly, coming back to this house did something to me. When I arrived I didn’t feel very well. I slept in your room and the night was difficult.
But as I kept fixing things, cleaning, organizing, something changed. Little by little I started to picture myself here again.
I think we’re going to have a good life there.
I hope you’ll adjust well. And I think this return will make us happier.
Lower expenses?
I think this choice will also allow us to save money.
The apartment we’re renting in Fortaleza costs us about 5,000 reais per month with all the fees, most of which we can’t even use (condo services for example). By going back home, this money will be able to go directly toward your health.
Paradoxically the great health insurance we’ve had from the beginning (joke) won’t cover anything at all because “it’s not in their area.” (not even oxygen!)
But your mom managed to organize lots of things with local resources and I think in the end we might have lower health expenses than in the city. We’ll see.
And we’re still working on several fronts to cover all these remaining costs, but it takes weeks…
Another piece of good news concerns the apartment. The management company has been very understanding with us. Since the floor tiles literally exploded, they agreed not to apply certain clauses of the contract.
We’ll simply pay this month with 30 days’ notice. The deposit will cover the rent. And the rest will be returned to us if there’s no damage. Perfect!
Lighter schedule
We’re also going to reduce the number of people who come to see you each day.
Here it’s a real marathon. The care, the appointments, the visits from professionals… sometimes you barely have time to sleep.
We hope that at home you’ll be able to rest more. Sleep more peacefully. And especially eat in peace with the sound of birds in the background (and no longer cars honking at the intersection right below all day long, even though you seem to like buses).
This will also allow us to reduce your exposure to potential viruses. Here in Fortaleza it’s a real breeding ground. Especially influenza. We’re very afraid of that. And going there to our countryside will clearly reduce the risks.
Withdrawal and personal reflection on the future
This trip also did something particular to me.
Since September 24th we’ve been living practically locked up in Fortaleza. When I go out, it’s to run an errand, buy food, or handle care.
I’ve rarely left the city. Once to the beach with your physical therapist in December. Once to see friends.
But this time I went far. I left the city for more than 48 hours.
And it felt strange.
Life goes on outside, son.
People live normally. They work, they go out, they laugh, they walk around. Their lives aren’t organized around an illness.
And it makes you think.
On the road I saw magnificent landscapes. The green of the trees, the coconut palms, the blue sky, the birds.
And I thought of you.
I can’t wait to show you all of this.
I can’t wait for you to see our garden.
The frogs.
The trees.
Life.
You deserve to see all of this.
During those hours on the road I also thought a lot. When you drive 4 hours there and 4 hours back, your brain has time to wander.
I thought about everything we’ve been through.
And I thought about what we can build.
These past few months I’ve put my professional projects aside a bit. I work with my clients, I move forward as I can, but I’ve stopped being truly ambitious.
It’s hard to be ambitious when you don’t know what tomorrow will look like.
Your illness is chronic. And for a long time I felt that the word chronic wasn’t compatible with building a future.
I couldn’t picture myself ahead anymore.
But this trip allowed me to think about that.
I think I’m going to relaunch an old project I had abandoned. My profession is changing tremendously right now with artificial intelligence and new technologies.
We have to adapt. Evolve.
Today I would like to continue building a life where I can spend more time with you. Being able to travel easily if needed for your care. Working less but better.
I have a few ideas.
We’ll see if they work.
But above all, the priority remains simple:
To come home.
To find our balance.
And to enjoy life!
And that, son, I really can’t wait to do with you!
I love you, my little potato
Dad.
