The day of the Manchester Concert

6/04/2017 Syl 0 Comments



Finally the temperature was down a bit. It felt so good, almost strange, after so many days.

Don't think we did nothing today.
I helped a young lad, studying journalism, to feel comfortable with his own texts. Proper research proper thought, and proper wording, and especially: asking feedback.
I love to do this, but there in't a job available at the moment. So I volunteer. And I'm happy they know where to find me.

In the meantime one of my daughters was working very hard to get her final written assignments done.

After dinner I was so tired that I couldn't keep my eyes open. Felt like putting some pillows on top of each other and then I just put my head there and sleep hit me. It's not nice to sleep bad at night and fall asleep during the day. Ugh. But I'm hurting no one.
I missed the very beginning of the Manchester concert, but it was like an inside alarm set off and made me wake up.

The concert was very emotional, as expected. I admired not only Ariana Grande, but also the children and parents who were there again.
Many moments touched my heart, but what will stay in my mind is the moment the schoolchildren sang. A lovely choir, with a girl singing solo, with a lovely voice. Her emotions took hold of her an right at the moment she had to stop, Ariana ran towards er and took over the singing. She comforted the girl and at the end of the song the girl as able to finish it, all by herself. The care Ariana took of the girl is for me the symbol of the whole concert.

This afternoon I found on a post of Reuters an Australian guy putting Ariana down. None had taken the care to write a comment. Maybe because he looked like a body builder with an oversized ego?
Let's say I reached out all over the ocean and gave him a slap on his hand like he was a young boy who had stolen a cookie (even though I've never slapped my kids for that.). Of course stupidity can't be cured that way, but I thought he had to have a learning opportunity by offering him some facts and the choice for empathy.

I finished the day by writing a mail to a textile company.
My autistic son is not only very large, but he also has quite some weight, due to medication during the first years of puberty (and a psychiatrist who promised all would be well. Get lost lady... nothing got well. He lives in protected living conditions, can't take care of himself properly and doesn't know how to deal with money, so he consumed all our savings.)
This young adult needs new trousers. I planned to go to the shop in Germany on Tuesday, until I realized that Germany demands a spare tire in the car. As we have some shops of them in the country I decided to write them a mail, asking if they have those very large denim trousers in the nearest shop. Let's hope so. It's his birthday at the end of the week.

And then the day was over.....

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