WHERE THERE'S A WILL, THERE'S A WAY

I should have known better than to be drowning in a sea of liquor, but before I hit land my mind navigated into new dreams. This time I traveled into a one story house far from the city and I was sitting in the living room. I was also dressed in black, but I think that seems sort of irrelevant since I do that every day.

On the other hand, I had several people around me, trusted ones while I was writing my last will. And this is where I stop. Again one of those apparently threatening situations that are inevitably tied to the process of dying. And if I effectively survived this weekend I wasn't able to understand which other danger was coming.

I'll have to say I suck at predicting the future. What I did know for sure is that next Monday I had to make plans for my new 'hiding place', A.K.A my new toy. 'Can't complain; 20 ft. high ceilings, wide open spaces, nice view of the Hudson River. Yet, there was still something about it I couldn´t explain; Edith said the other day that home was with me, and it makes sense since I´ve lived in several places it´s hard to say if any one of these has been welcoming enough.

I went upstairs to my favorite spot in the rooftop while the morning breeze literally pierced my skin; it must have been around 45 degrees, I´m not sure. I watched my old man enjoying the view of my dear neighborhood.

"Hey man, how´s it going?" I said slightly dragging my feet.

"Oh, hey there. I just came here for a moment or two to clear my thoughts, you know," he answered as I noticed he rubbed his bony hands.

"What was that all about with mom? She barely wanted to talk to me the other day..."

"Yeah, you know, she´s working too hard not getting better; she kinda stubborn after what happened to you last month. She practically paralyzed when she heard the news."

"I understand."

"No, but the thing is that she had to learn sooner or later that you just gotta learn to jump one of these days. I realize you´re strong but don´t try to prove anything."

"I ´m sorry I was such an idiot. Sometimes you just, you know, lose grip, that´s all."

"Sure, sure, that´s fine, but she just worries a little bit too much...Anyway, I´m really proud of you, son. You managed to do in so little time what I couldn´t do my entire life..."

"And that is?"

"Getting out of that hellhole, dammit!"

For once I stopped feeling sort of selfish and I approached old Adam and wrapped by arms around him. “You know what they say; where there´s a will, there´s a way…”

“Do you remember what we used to call you back when you were just four?” he asked.

“Man, I can´t even fully remember what happened last week!”

“Oh, c´mon; you were our little monster who did nothing all day but just sit in the backyard scribbling and scribbling until you burned holes in the paper. It runs in the family, I guess. Your grandma used to paint shortly after dad passed away. She did make a portrait, not too accurate though. But she always said that´s what kept her going.”

“I knew that already,” I said sort of puzzled. “But there was one freaking portrait I couldn´t get off my mind for ages. It was this sort of religious image of Jesus helping out a poor woman…”

“Oh yeah. She hated it though. She did it just because it was supposed to be a gift for a friend of hers, but in the end she kept it because she was such a perfectionist!” Adam laughed for a while.

“And I can prove it´s still there, isn´t it?”

“Yeah, that´s it!” Dad laughed harder. “She could never get rid of it, not sure why…But then I guess I taught you well; you´re free spirited as I was, so don´t let anyone stop you from doing whatever you wanna do.”

“Would you like to go and have something with me and Edith? She´s so goddamn adorable…”