A week has passed. Rain or shine, days are very much the same, and it’s a good sign. We are home, we work, we sleep, we eat, we see our friends during WhatsApp video calls… we should feel privileged to be home, healthy, comparatively safe, while other people are fighting this battle for us, in hospitals, risking their lives a million times so that one day this nightmare may pass. I cannot help picturing my cousin, the doctor, who sent …
Tag: doctor
I haven’t written this diary for a few days. On the one hand, because I end up repeating myself. Routines are installed, I get up, I eat, I write, I do some exercise at home, I eat again, I write, I eventually go for a walk if the weather permits; which is not the case today, as it’s stormy outside. Once a week I go to the grocery store to buy fruit and vegetables. The boys keep coming …
Your birthday was on the 4th of April. You were born on a distant day of the year 1918, in the city of Lourenço Marques, in Mozambique (nowadays Maputo, a name you hate, I know). You were the third child of Manuel de Freitas and Marie-Agnès Grabowski, what we would call today an “international couple”: he was Portuguese, born and bred on the island of Madeira having emigrated to Mozambique in his early twenties in search of a better life; she …