Discovery

My father´s name is Daniel, he is 86, and does not take a single medicine. He is a translator, writer, and the best story-teller I know. We live close by, and usually meet in some coffee bar. As a rule we talk about the same things: politics, films, books, the importance of washing fruit, the harmful effect of sugar and my son. No emotional issues have a place in our chats. It´s better that way. My son is 4, and his name is Romeo. For medical matters, we rely on homeopathy. He is an observant and emotional child, prone to shyness, still sleeping in our room. We talk a lot about pirates, super-heroes, dinosaurs and plants, and also about how unwholesome sugar is. It is a subject I frequently bring up, hoping naively that it will lessen his desire for lollypops and the like. We usually go to the park and then to the small bar across the street, to meet with grandpa Ehke, my father. On those occasions Romeo normally asks me to keep him in my arms for a few minutes, until croissants arrive on the table. Then he looks for some board game and keeps to himself. My father tries to make ground with affectionate attempts, but when successful, they only last for a little while. He then remarks to me: “I´m not worried, it´s normal… kids don´t like old folk”. And that is true; I remember my distaste for old people when I was a little girl. This year we went on a holiday to a farm and we took grandpa Ekay along. It was the first time my father and my son spent time together.