A palindrome of light and darkness

Every now and again, I come here and I spill some words into this canvas. Most of the times I am melancholic and eager to share with the universe what is going on with my life.

About a week ago, I was struck by a bolt of light in a human form. The chemistry took a few hours to kick in but when it did, I became smitten for this palindrome.

For the love of a palindrome!

All the best moments are here

I am trapped in the emotional response that surfaces upon listening to the musical chords of the "All the best memories are hers" theme.
I am immediately taken by the memory of feeling nostalgia. Not for anything in specific but just for the essence of what it feels like to be nostalgic... That Portuguese word Saudade that seems to cause ripples beyond borders and let the gaze of the soul of the wanderers that come here to appreciate the essence of what is Portugal.

What is Portugal?
A name?
A 975 years old idea?
A small rectangle on the western shores of Europe?
What do we recall of our heritage?
How proud are we of what we have achieved as a people, a nation?
How greatful are we to all those other people who were of paramount importance to let us get so far?

What are indeed the merits of a collective memory? The idea of a shy but intrepid people that is willing to take the elements and taim them into a new way for the world...

My best memory
Is still unwritten.
A memory where a lot more value will be cherished by what means to be human than for what it stands to accomplish wealth.
What memory is this anyway...

To help beyond belief

These current times are by far some of the most difficult moments of my life personally and I feel that he world around me is crumbling into pieces.

I have a friend who has a knack for getting into problems. This time around she found a way to put some Brazilians at her parents apartment with the intent of renting it to them but without doing any contract beforehand.
She needs to do this of course because she's into some dire financial situation of her own.
Now our hopes lie in the words of the Brazilians hoping that they will sign a contract and they will respect it until the end of the year. This helping to balance the cash flow problem that she has.

On another side, my mom is helping out her brother. he's very sick and he is not worthy of the care she's putting into helping him.
I find it sad that she is feeling so flustered so frustrated and so saddened by the way he dismisses this care by his own selfish actions like spending all this money and also by letting himself reach a point of no return, where all he has left is the care she can give him.
She is tired.
She is losing her own time.
How long must this go on?

I am helping both, but it's consuming me.
I am tired of this.

Grrr

Support

Maybe I am alive these days.
After all I feel quite calm, despite the agitated Waters of the past few days.
My feline friend has been keeping me from harm's way.

Now therefore I wonder what will happen if the world gives me a chance to be happy once again.  And still I have no idea what dreams will come.

A few weeks have passed since the upstairs sentences were written. The set is another waiting room. Larger and filled with people waiting to get pricked for blood before proceeding to any doctor's appointment and get some information about what health will come.
They all eagerly stare at the monitor that beeps the order of call, which will define to each a station where a nurse will seringe them all for analysis.
There are tenths of people in the room.
Outside the day is grey, but outside is just a sliding door away. As each person enters this passage reveals the dawn of day and the developing rain that comes with it.
As I see the world after 41 years, everything else loses meaning when anyone had his health  having a dire day.

The ambient in the hospital waiting room is for the most part quiet and yet filled with tension of the unknown. I wonder if people think what will come of them? How long do they have? The despair of the unwelcomed pain with the uncertainty of the Future leaves very little room to politeness and good behavior.
People just want their problem fix and no residue of pain, which here works as a signal to warn that something is not right in their bodies.
They all need some kind of support.

Waiting room

The room holds 25 blue chairs, divided in tandem groups.
The patients or their companions occasionally take a sit and engage on different ways to pass the time, until one of the voices on the other side of the loudspeaker releases them from the purgatory of the wait. Most of them are involved with their gadgets, a cell phone, a tablet, a few read books or magazines, others indulge on a mid morning snack to delude the hunger that inevitably ends up showing during the long waiting hours.
This is a purgatory indeed, one of fate.
After all, this is the oncology ward, where lives are over like a light is shut with a flick of a switch.  The dire revelation of the dreaded Mr. Cancer is felt in the room. However no one seems to be revealing the odd truth, behind their wait.
Will I die soon?
Am I going to make it?
Will it hurt?
What will come of me if he or she goes?
A dire wait in a cold hospital waiting room, where the only constant is the tandem groups that account for 25 blue chairs.