Parisul … orasul cu o mie de feţe

M-am hotarat sa scriu cateva cuvinte despre Paris pentru un concurs organizat cu ocazia aniversării agenţiei de online travel Vola.ro, care oferă câte 2 bilete spre o destinaţie de vis. Alegerea mea este Parisul. (Mai multe detalii aici).

Parisul are o mie de feţe si exista cate una pentru fiecare turist ce ii calca pragul.
Fie indragostiti, fie iubitori ai istoriei, fie familiile cu copii, fie tineri, batrani, fie pasionati de fotografie oricui ii place in Paris.
Parisul traieste pentru a fi admirat, iubeste muzica, stie sa danseze dar e si un sportiv extraordinar.Este foarte bine educat avand o cultura extrordinara si o multitudine de cunostinte despre istorie, arta, stiinte sociale. Este un profesor universitar care va invata ceva cu fiecare pas pe care il faceti pe strazile lui.
Parisul stie sa se distreze, sa se simta bine si sa imparta bucuriile cu oricine decide sa ii fie alaruri. Parisul este prietenul femeilor si iubeste cumparaturile.
Parisul iti ridica moralul atunci cand esti trist, este un prieten adevarat si stie sa iti asculte necazurile.
Parisul este un romantic incurabil dar un amant pasional.
Parisul este prietenul copiilor purtandu-i pe aripiile magiei in Disneyland.
Parisul este un model pe care orice fotograf si l-ar dori si o muza pentru fiecare pictor.

Parisul este prietenul tinerilor dar si a celor in varsta deoarece desi are un spirit tanar are multe amintiri de depanat.

Parisul poate fi descoperit intr-o multitudine de feluri asa cum sunt o multitudine de persoane care il viziteaza.Pentru fiecare Parisul e unic in percepere. Parisul are suflet si asta simte fiecare turist care ii calca pragul. Fiecare il percepe in felul lui . Oare cum va fi Parisul meu?

Ramane de vazut …

Adio

In fata unei asemenea drame, orice altceva isi pierde din insemnatate. In aceste situatii deschidem ochii si regretam ca nu am putut aprecia la adevarata valoare o persoana care acum nu mai e printre noi. Atat Ungaria cat si Romania il plang pe uriasul cu inima de copil ce a plecat in echipa ingerilor duminica dimineata. Pe Marian Cozma. Cuvintele par de prisos .

Doliu
Tudor Arghezi

Mai mult, tu nu vei mai vedea
Nimic, nici cer, nici flori.
S-au prafuit din zarea ta,
Ca niste nori.
Nici zare nu vei mai avea,
Nici ochi cu care s-o masori
In geamuri prin perdea.

De-acum straina mana ta
Iti va sedea deoparte,
Ca un condei, pe undeva,
Alaturea de-o carte.
Si ochii tai, de gura ta,
Vor trece mai departe,
Decat un nufar de o stea.
Orbit-a viata si, cu ea,
Si cantecul si luna,
Si unda-n care stralucea
S-a stins pe totdeauna.

Tu pentru veci tu nu vei mai fi,
Si-ai fost, cumva, vreodata?
Pustiul ma invalui,
Cand sub un plop mi se trezi
Tot dorul de-altadata!

Durerea me se pierde-n fum,
Tot cautand un vreasc de rost
Intr-aste drumuri fara drum,
In care toate doar au fost,
Si nu mai sunt acum.

Adio Marian! Dumnezeu sa te odhineasca!

2 ani ( Nu te vom uita, Paul)

Pentru ca nu mi-am gasit cuvintele  m-am straduit sa ii aduc un mic omagiu, atat cat m-am priceput, unui mare om, unui jucator fantastic de snooker: Paul Hunter ( 1978-2006).

A trecut atata timp si eu tot nu ma pot obisnui cu gandul ca nu o sa il mai vad la masa de snooker decat in hall of fame si in inregistrari!

Ganduri

by Iulya

M-am tot gandit la vise,
La nori , la lucruri neatinse,
M-am tot gandit la idealuri,
La munti, la vai dar si la valuri,

Si m-am gandit la mari si tari,
Ce apar pe harti, doar in culori,
Culori ce nu spun nici o poveste,
Nici o istorie, nici o veste.

Ce stim, de fapt, despre omenire?
Ca ceasul ticaie in nestire.
De ne-am opri macar o clipa,
Sa nu vedem lumea doar din sticla.

M-am gandit la zambete,
La mii si mii de rasete,
M-am tot gandit cum am putea
Sa facem lumea mai putin rea.

Sa daruim, sa ne zambim,
Sa incercam sa ne iubim.
Sa vedem ce-i dupa nori,
Sa ne inconjuram de flori.

Cu ganduri mari, vise marete,
Cu ganduri bune si povete,
Sa ne gandim la viitor avand in minte
Aceste cateva cuvinte.

Unde va grabiti?

Cate vieti au fost distruse, cata suferinta s-a cauzat, cata tristete. Toate pentru graba, neatentie, viteza, oboseala. Dar mai ales VITEZA. Nu intelegem ca viata e mai pretioasa decat timpul? Pare un paradox dar odata curmata viata ai pierdut timpul din ea. Odata distrusa viata pierzi din timpul pe care l-ai petrece in mod normal. Si pentru ce? Pentru ca ne grabim? Ne grabim unde? Si de ce?
Nu suntem indestructibili, fiecaruia dintre noi le se poate intampla, oricand, oriunde. Dar daca fiecare isi ia masurile de precautie sansele scad considerabil.Daca ne-am grabi acasa ( adica inainte de plecare) nu ar mai trebui sa gonim, daca am intelege ca centurile nu sunt un moft poate mai multii am supravietui, daca am intelege ca e mai important sa ajungem la destinatie decat sa ajungem REPEDE poate ca nici nu s-ar mai intampla atatea accidente!!!
Nu pot sa inteleg, atatea necazuri din cauza inconstieintei, teribilismului, grabei, oboselii dar si a banilor. Tot banii stau la cauza multor accidente! Cum? Ne grabim sa ajungem la timp si timpul inseamna banii pentru majoritatea dintre noi. Nu degeaba banii sunt ochiul dracului. Stesul si oboseala apar de cele mai multe ori tot din cauza baniilor ( a serviciului de obicei).
De ce sa riscam? Pentru un posibil castig ? Si ce riscam: tocmai Viata …adica tot timpul ce ne ramasese la dispozitie, adica privind dintr-u punct de vedere economic (si poate cinic) castigul potential rezultat din castigarea de timp ( foarte scurt de obicei) este neglijabil fata de riscul pierderii finale. Si totusi multi dintre noi riscam.
Accidentele de masina sunt un risc pe care ni-l asumam prea des, mult prea des …. De fiecare data cand punem castigul imediat ( in timp sau bani) deasupra vietii noaste. Nu riscam doar vietiile noaste ci si ale celor cene insotesc si pe cele ale celorlalti participantii la trafic.
De aceea va rog sa va ganditi de doua ori inainte sa va urcati obosit, beat la volan, de cate ori aveti tentatia sa calcati pedala de acceleratie, de cate ori faceti o depasire
STOP ACCIDENTELOR RUTIERE! VIATA ARE PRIORITATE! NU NE MAI RISCATI VIITORUL!!!!

Interviu cu mine

Am primit demult o leapsa de la Dumy si dupa o amanare destul de lunga a venit timpul sa raspund la cele 13 intrebari. Multumesc

1) De ce ai acceptat leapsa aceasta?

Pentru ca mi s-a parut interesanta.

2) De cand esti in blogosfera?

De pe 16 iulie 2007

3) Cum ai ajuns sa iti faci blogul?

Pentru ca am simtit ca am ceva de spus, iar blogul mi s-a parut un loc bun pentru a ma exprima.

4) Care este primul blog pe care ai intrat vreodata?

Nu mai stiu.

5) Enumera 3 lucruri pe care le crezi importante ca sa reusesti în blogging.

Sa reusesti? Depinde cum privesti bloggingul daca te referi la traffic atunci promtitudinea, originalitatea si tratarea unor subiecte importante si eventual populare.
Dar eu nu vreau traffic ci pur si simplu vrea sa ma exprim liber.

6) Cel mai citit blog de catre tine.

Multe. Nu vreau sa mentionezz

7) Alte bloguri pe care le mai citesti.

Multe  printre care si cele existente in blogroll

8 ) Care platforma de bloguri o consideri cea mai buna? (ex. Haipa, Blogger etc.)

Pentru ce vreau eu de la o platforma de blogg wordpressul e foarte bun.

9) Este important traficul pentru tine?

Nu

10) Sunt importanti banii pe care i-ai putea obtine din reclame?

Nu, dar daca ar veni ar fi foarte bine!

11) Cel mai urat blog pe care l-ai vazut?

Uff ar fi multe dar nominaliz cele care sunt facute doar de dragul de a fi facute fara avea alt scop decat traficul

12) Consideri ca e un lucru vital sa ai un domeniu .ro/.net/.com etc. ?

Nu e vital, nu e nimic vital in blogosfera, e insa o caracteristica ce ofera o mai mare accesibilitate catre blogul tau

13) Parola cu care te loghezi la blog?

Parola …nu o stiu nici eu o am scrisa pe undeva. Daca cineva este interesat sa scrie pe blogul meu cauta-ti ma pe mess mail sau printr-un comment

Multumesc Dumy pentru aceast “Interviu cu mine” si scuze ca m-a lenevit in a-l scrie. Leapasa o dau mai departe orcui doreste sa o preia!

3,2,1 GOOOOO ….

 

Nu vreau sa fac o analiza obiectiva si realista a inceputului de sezon in motogp pentru ca sunt destule si probabil as spune cam aceleasi lucruri. Asa ca astern aici cateva ganduri si dorinte personale pentru sezonul ce incepe.
1)In primul rand imi doresc un sezon fara accidentari serioase si fara accidente care sa pericliteze sanatatea riderilor dar si sansele acestora la titlu ( gen Catalunya 2006).
2) Apoi imi doresc un sezon animat in care lupta pentru titlu sa se dea pana in ultima cursa, iar in lupta sa fie implicate cat mai multi piloti si echipe!
3) Imi doresc ca Loris Capirossi sa aiba un sezon bun cu Suzuki , de asemenea Vermeulen si intreaga echipa Rizla
4) Mi-as dori ca daca nu castiga Loris ori Chris campionatul atunci acesta sa fie castigat de Dani Pedrosa sau macar de un pilot considerat fara sanse
5.) Vreau ca Stoner, Suppo, Jorge Lorenzo sa arate mai multa modestie
6) Vreau spectacol, depasiri.

Pe scurt VREAU SA INCEAPA! Roll on Qatar!

Nu te-am uitat, Maria!!

 

28 august 2004, Atena, finala olimpica feminina de 1.500 de metri. Romania castiga medalia de bronz, prin Maria Cioncan. Imaginile cu atleta legitimata la Hunedoara, prabusita intai pe pista si apoi plangand in hohote pe podium au ramas in memoria romanilor. „N-am sa mai umblu niciodata in opinci”, cuvinte rostite prin lacrimi si sughituri de Maria Cioncan au impresionat o tara intreaga. Erau cuvintele unui om cu care viata nu a fost niciodata prea darnica. Nascuta intr-o familie modesta din Maieru, judetul Bistrita Nasaud, Maria Cioncan nu a primit niciodata nimic de la viata. Chiar si lucrurile firesti pentru ceilalti oameni le-a primit platind un pret mult prea mare.

21 ianuarie 2008. Se implineste un an de cand Maria ne-a parasit. A trecut pe nesimţite. Chiar dacă nu mai e printre noi, va rămâne etern în conştiinţa noastră, a celor care iubim sportul. Nu vom uita niciodată lacrimile tinerei din Maeru, care, după ce a câştigat medalia de bronz la Olimpiada de la Atena, spunea că a scăpat definitiv de sărăcie.

Exact cu un an in urma visurile s-au frant. Brusc. Dureros. Un stupid accident de masina a incheiat visurile unei fete care si-a croit drumul dintr-un sat din judetul Bistrita Nasaud pana pe podiumul de premiere al unei Olimpiade.
Maria Cioncan se pregatea pentru Campionatele Mondiale din vara, programate in Japonia, la Osaka. In momentul accidentului, ea revenea de la pregatiri, pe care le sustinea aproape in fiecare an in Grecia.
Dupa retragerea din activitate, Maria isi dorea sa devina antrenoare. In acest sens, in 2004 a absolvit cursurile Facultatii de Educatie Fizica si Sport. Se inscrisese la cursuri pentru Masterat, specializarea Stiinta Sportului. Isi dorea sa-si dea apoi si doctoratul in acest domeniu. Isi dorea sa traiasca ….

Nu te-am uitat Maria! Nu te-am uitat….

Romanul si cozile …

Am fost azi in zona si am zis sa vad si eu noul hypermarket Real, deschis cu tam-tam si cu promotii fel de fel, oferte atragatoare. Am mai vazut eu aglomeratie, da cozi doar ca sa intri in magazin n-am vazut. N-am stiut dk sa rad sau sa-i compatimesc pe cei ce se incapatanau sa stea la coada ca sa isi cheltuie banii sau sa ma enervez la lipsa de repsect si organizare a proprietarilor magazinului. Asa k am lasat-o balta, m-am linistit si m-am intors acasa, dar nu inainte de a imortaliza momentul.

Civilizatia din iarba

Cum as descrie imaginea d mai sus intr-un cuvant? Civilizatie!

Nu, nu vrea sa vad repetarea gestului in Romania, vreau sa vad demnitate, respect si sprit de fair-play. Vreau si la noi civilizatia in fotbal dar nu numai. Dar cred ca am prea multe pretentii, deja.

E mult sa vreau sa pot sa merg la un meci fara sa-mi fac griji ca se vor isca incaierari, ca se vor scanda obscernitati mai mereu, ca vreau conditii minime d civilizatie pe stadion (scari, porti d acces scaune, toalete si chioscuri cu bauturi racoritoare la un pret acceptabil) etc. DA in Romania e mult sa vrei civilizatie. Iar daca vrei, esti numit spectator d ocazie, “semintar” si nu “suporter adevarat”. Vrei asa ceva?” Du-te taica in alta parte, nu-ti convine cum se desfasoara lucrurile aici, nu veni.” E simplu pentru ei, dar din pacate, fotbalul pierde, pentru ca astfel se pierd multi suporteri. Vii cu familia p stadion, ce vede cel mic acolo, ce invata? Invata ca trebuie sa injuri, sa lovesti ca sa fii suporter al fotbalului.Si nu asta e adevarul. Din pacate stadionul a ajuns un loc unde frustrarile sunt exprimate, de refularii, nu doar un loc al spectacolului sportiv.

Pacat :( .

14 octombrie 2007

Astazi ar fi implinit 29 de ani. A plecat dintre noi anul trecut cu doar 5 zile inainte de ziua lui de nastere. Nu cred ca as putea gasi cuvintele mai potrivite decat cele din interviul acordat de Lindsey Hunter la putin timp de la moartea lui Paul.

 ”I took Paul’s hand in mine… it was time to let him go”

By ELIZABETH DAY and PETER ROBERTSON
Last updated at 21:08pm on 21st October 2006

In her first heart-rending interview, the widow of tragic snooker star Paul Hunter reveals the agony of their final hours together as he lost his brave cancer battle.
There were two extraordinary aspects to Paul Hunter’s brief life.
The first was his uncanny skill on the snooker table; a youthful dexterity with cue and ball that earned him three major titles by the age of 25.
The second was cancer, a disease that killed him with brutal aggression five days before his 28th birthday. Without these two defining features, Paul would doubtless have carried on living an unexceptional life as a likeable, popular young man from Leeds, with a twinkle in his eye and and an ability to make and keep friends.
Instead his fate was to be a sporting celebrity fighting a 19-month battle for his life. Paul’s vast circle of friends from the snooker circuit had assumed that his youth and fitness would see him through but they did not save him in the end, and his quiet bravery in the face of increasingly desperate odds won him the admiration of thousands, many of whom had never even watched a snooker match.
His funeral at Leeds Parish Church on Thursday attracted hundreds of mourners, including snooker stars Stephen Hendry, Steve Davis, Dennis Taylor and Jimmy White.
But it was not just the snooker world who paid their respects. Loudspeakers outside the church relayed the service to the crowds of people who had been unable to gain entry.
Paul’s youth, his affable character and uncomplaining straightforwardness in the face of terrible illness had touched countless hearts.
In death, Paul Hunter’s life came to signify much more than anyone could have anticipated. “I don’t think people realise what they have lost until time goes on,‘ says his 31-year-old widow, Lindsey, speaking for the first time since Paul’s death.
“I knew he was special, but I am only just realising how special.”
Her husband’s death brought with it a curious sense of relief and sadness. She struggles for the right words to express such emotions as she describes his last moments.
“The last thing I said was, “I love you,”‘ says Lindsey. “His mum, dad and sister Leanne came in. All of a sudden he took a big breath, like he knew they were there, and then he was gone.
“We were all just crying,’ she says, tears forming again at the memory. “I was really happy; relieved for him, really. He had a bit of a smile on his face. We stayed there for about two hours after he died. He was fine. He was happy. He wasn’t scared.”
Paul, whose highlighted blond hair (often held in an Alice band) and square-jawed good looks had once earned him the nickname “Beckham of the Baize’, had undergone a shocking physical transformation in the 19 months since his diagnosis.
When he was admitted to the Kirkwood Hospice in Huddersfield four days before his death, his green eyes were sunken and ringed by dark circles. His hair, which had fallen our during chemotherapy, had grown back brown and he kept it close- cropped to the end.
Barely eight stone, he had lost so much weight that his wedding ring kept slipping off his finger. His nerve- endings had become so ravaged that even the most simple task, such as buttoning up a cardigan for his ten-month-old daughter, Evie, proved impossible.
But he was conscious enough, three days before his death, to sign a consent form enabling Lindsey – when she was ready – to use sperm he had stored before he began his chemotherapy.
“If I were to have another baby, I would have Paul’s baby,‘ she says. “Maybe in two or three years. I spoke to Paul’s mum and dad about it beforehand and they were honoured.”I think the only thing Paul wanted, apart from winning the snooker world championships, was to be a dad.”
It is this knowledge that has given Lindsey the strength to face recent weeks with her composure intact. Listening to her calm and clear recollections, it seems almost unfathomable that she should have been through such a tragedy. Her bobbed blonde hair is neatly blow-dried, her make-up impeccably applied. The spacious, new-build home on the outskirts of Leeds, which she and Paul shared, is strewn with Evie’s toys and filled with the little girl’s giggles.
Her adoring father has gone but, from photographs around the house, he grins reassuringly at her.
Lindsey cries only once throughout the three-hour interview, apologising as she does so. She is, she says, determined to celebrate her husband’s life, rather than mourn his death.
“I still don’t feel that Paul’s not here really,’ she admits. “There’s so much about him on television it’s as if he’s not gone anywhere yet.
“He had been in so much pain over the last few months that dying was a godsend.
“I think the only thing that was going to stop that cancer from growing was Paul dying. He was going to have to sacrifice his life for it to die. Nothing was going to get rid of it.
“We did absolutely everything. Everything that Paul could have tried, he did. He put himself through a hell of a lot. But then, I think we were probably fighting a battle that we could never win because if anybody could have won it, I believe Paul would.”
From the very beginning, Paul was used to winning. Born on a Leeds council estate in 1978, his Aunt Mary gave him a miniature snooker table when he was three. Neither of his parents – Alan, a roofer and Kristina, a receptionist – played snooker, though his paternal grandfather had been a good amateur player. But from that moment on, Paul was hooked.
In his early teens, his father drove him to junior tournaments and nurtured his obvious talent. At 14, he and a partner won the English Doubles Championship and he turned professional two years later.
At 17, he reached the semi-finals of the Welsh Open in Newport, Gwent. He remains the youngest ever semi-finalist in a world-ranking tournament.
Paul admitted that he enjoyed the trappings of fame: the parties and the women. He attracted a devoted following of female fans, who would kit themselves out in matching “I Love Paul’ T-shirts. He once said he spent ‘far too much time partying and far too little time practising’.
During his first season as a professional he was disciplined by the World Professional Billiards and Snooker Association for late-night high jinks at a Blackpool hotel – including streaking naked along the promenade for a dare. Then, after celebrating his 21st birthday with a joint of marijuana, he tested positive for illegal drugs after reaching the final 16 in the 1999 Bournemouth Grand Prix.
He was fined £4,550 – but from that day on, was a model professional. This transformation was, in large part, due to Lindsey.
They had been introduced by his cousin Nicola when Lindsey Fell was a 21-year-old beauty therapist and Paul an 18-year-old Jack the Lad. Neither of them was ready to settle down, but they became closer over the years until Lindsey, with customary forthrightness, told him that ‘he couldn’t have his cake and eat it’.
“How do you explain what love is?‘ she says now. “He just pulled at my heart strings all the time. I just couldn’t get him out of my mind.
“And I think every day that we had together, Paul loved me more and more. I don’t think I could love him any more anyway, but I think he just appreciated me more and more as he got older.”
The relationship brought with it many benefits – not least an improvement in his form. By 2004, he was ranked the fourth best player in the world. In August that year, he married Lindsey on a beach in Jamaica, surrounded by 30 family and friends. Paul, always so cool under pressure at the snooker table, started crying as soon as he saw his bride.
“He just thought he pretty much had everything he had ever dreamed of,’ says Lindsey. “I just knew that we would never get divorced, never split up. I never thought he’d die.”
The couple did not have long to enjoy their newly-wedded bliss. Eight months into their marriage, Paul went to his doctor complaining of a pain on the right-hand side of his stomach, just above the hip.
An inflamed appendix was initially suspected, but a biopsy showed up cancerous tissue. He was suffering from multiple neuroendocrine tumours – one of the rarest and most aggressive forms of cancer, which affects fewer than 2,000 people a year worldwide.
The cancerous tumours attach themselves to nerve endings throughout the body and are so minuscule that it is almost impossible to cut them out.
Paul’s tumours started growing on his abdomen wall, then spread with vicious speed throughout his body.
“We went to get the results from St James’s University Hospital in Leeds and I remember thinking, “I’m grown up and married, but yet I feel so young,”‘ says Lindsey. “I thought he probably should be coming here with his mum and dad. It was just little me and Paul.
“We just went into this room and then the doctor said to us, “Obviously we’ve got the tissue and the tissue is malignant. It is cancerous.”
“And I just went completely into my overdrive mode. “Well, whereabouts is it? What is it? Is it anywhere else? What’s going to be done? Can it be operated on?”
“Paul just sat there very quietly. The doctor said, “Looking at it, we don’t think it can be operated on.”
“I think we were so stunned that we didn’t even really ask many more questions.”
Paul remained optimistic. He insisted on competing in the 2005 World Championships before embarking on a strength-sapping cycle of chemotherapy. Doctors warned him that the treatment might render him infertile and, just a year into his marriage, he froze six vials of sperm.
Then amid the turmoil of their lives came news that must have seemed like a miracle to them.
Two days before Paul’s first session of chemotherapy, Lindsey found out she was pregnant. She was so shocked and determined to be sure, that she did six pregnancy tests.
Evie Rose was born on Boxing Day 2005, by which stage Paul was just about to start the third cycle of his second chemotherapy – and was desperately ill.
“Paul was walking around on the labour ward with a bald head, obviously having chemo,’ says Lindsey “I bet people looked and thought, “That poor young family,” but we were just getting on with it as we always did.
“Occasionally, he’d be sitting on the sofa feeling really bad and I’d just dump Evie on the floor and walk out,’ she recalls. “He’d try to play and do something with her and it put a smile on his face.”
Paul was determined not to distress his innocent daughter by giving away any hint of the depth of his pain. Yet protecting her must have been the most extraordinary act of self-will. At his lowest point, Paul was vomiting every half hour, unable even to take the smallest sip of water.
Lindsey is relieved that Evie is too young to understand what has been going on around her – but will tell her about her father when the time is right.
“She’s not acting any differently or anything,‘ say Lindsey. “I think that if Paul had battled on for another few years and she had known him, it would have been harder.
“I will let her read and let her see everything that has been said about him because that is enough. It says it all.”
The young couple began to acknowledge that the end was in sight about three months ago, when Paul became unable to sleep because of the pain.
Lindsey recalls: “He was exhausted. He was probably having about three hours of sleep a night but all in half-hour slots.
“He was losing weight as well because he was struggling to eat. By now a massive tumour was pushing on his tummy so he felt so full.” All the time, Lindsey could only watch as the man she adored went through his ordeal.
“It was just horrendous. Absolutely horrific. And I’d got so used to it all. Even if somebody else found it devastating, to me it was just the norm. He carried a sick bowl everywhere he went. So you can’t put it into words, can you?
“I remember him sitting in the bathroom saying, “It’s bizarre, isn’t it?” and I said, “What?” And he went, “You are plodding on with your life quite happily and then, all of a sudden, something like this comes along and completely messes it up.” That is how he saw it.”
In his last days, a constant stream of friends came to pay their last respects, including fellow snooker player Matthew Stevens, who was a pallbearer at his funeral. Often, they would be so alarmed by the change in Paul’s appearance, they could barely contain their tears – but Lindsey gave them strength.
“I would say, “Remember, put a brave face on,” because I thought if Paul saw the shock on their face he would be upset.”
Though Lindsey and Paul had accepted the inevitable, his parents were still in a state of incomprehension. “Towards the last couple of months, they just lived so much on hope.
“His mum would say “Lindsey, he’s got to be all right.” And I’d say, “But Kristina, he hasn’t got to be all right. Some things are not in our hands.”
“Up until the last two weeks I don’t think they’d really thought he was going to die.”
Lindsey remained constant through unutterable suffering. She and Paul had married young, but facing up to terminal illness made adults of them both.
Lindsey plans to return to work as soon as possible and get back a degree of normality. If she has learned one thing about herself, it is surely that she is more resilient, more steadfast than anyone could have conceived possible.
“I feel I’m stronger than I thought I was. At every stage of Paul’s illness there was something else to cope with and I just dealt with it step by step. But I was his wife and that was my job. To look after him for ever.
“But through it all I was determined never to let Paul see me cry. It was only at the funeral when there were people in the church who cried from start to finish, strapping men, that I was tipped over the edge a little bit, just seeing how emotional other people were. I shed quite a few tears, mainly at the crematorium.”
And then, in a heart-rending admission, Lindsey sums up the depth of her devotion to the man she had found and lost in so short a time.
She recalled: “The day before he died, I gave him an aromatherapy massage, took his hand in mine and told him gently to let go.
“I was just saying, “You know, we are all so proud of you. You’ve done everything you can. Stop being a tough old thing. Shut your eyes and go to sleep.” He had to die,’ she says, finally. “It was his time.”

Not just a song

 Extras din coloana sonora a filmului “Meet The Robinsons” . Mai multe detalii sau cuvinte nu prea isi au rostul:

Just enjoy it:

Rob Thomas - Little Wonders

Versuri:

time falls away,
but these small hours,
these small hours still remain
let it slide,
let your troubles fall behind you
let it shine
until you feel it all around you
and i don’t mind
if it’s me you need to turn to
we’ll get by,
it’s the heart that really matters in the end

our lives are made
in these small hours
these little wonders,
these twists & turns of fate
time falls away,
but these small hours,
these small hours still remain

all of my regret
will wash away some how
but i can not forget
the way i feel right now

in these small hours
these little wonders
these twists & turns of fate
these twists & turns of fate

time falls away but these small hours
these small hours, still remain,
still remain
these little wonders
these twists & turns of fate
time falls away
but these small hours
these little wonders still remain

De ce am incredere …

Poate ca, citind posturile mele referitoare la ciclism v-ati intrebat de ce insist si de ce ma incapatanez sa cred in danezul Michael Rasmussen.

Oricat ar vrea mintea mea sa-l acuze, inima nu poate, si asta nu pentu ca as avea un “crush” on him ori ceva similar – nu e cazul though, ci pentru ca asa am simtit. Pentru ca stiu ce inseamana ca nimeni sa vrea sa treaca peste aparente, ca nimeni sa nu aiba incredere si ca toti sa te judece fara vreo baza reala.Stiu cat de mult doare si cat de repede poti ajunge la pamant.  Stiu cum e sa fii in genunchi si nimeni sa nu vrea sa te ajute sa te ridici, ci tomai sa iti dea lovitura decisiva cand esti deja jos. Stiu insa si ce bine te poti simti cand cineva in ciuda tuturor are incredere in tine. Si mai stiu ce bine e sa ai incredere si sa treci peste aparente in ciuda tuturor problemelor.

De aceea eu cred si am incredere, imi asum riscul de a ma simti dezamagita, dar eu deocamdata cred ..