Pa' donde?

Pa' dónde vas?
... is a question Ingrid and I have been asking Ernesto a lot lately, both literally and figuratively. Literally: teasingly, while he works out the art of crawling. His left side seems stronger than his right so he currently travels in circles around the same spot. Figuratively: as we plan his baptism (next week), prepare to register him at nursery (2018), and research future school options (2020). 

Pa' donde vamos?
... is a question Ingrid and I have been asking ourselves a lot. Literally: entering the sixth month of Ernie's life he'll be visiting his sixth country, Colombia. Figuratively: it will also be the last month of Ingrid's maternity leave, before a return to 'normality'. Scary how fast September is approaching.

Pa' donde voy?
Literally: I mumbled this while smiling as one of my molars cracked under the extreme pressure exerted by the dentist's pliers. An infection had formed under it (after battling through two root canals in previous years) and the simplest remedy was extraction. 

Figuratively: why the smile? After my GBM diagnosis I didn’t think I'd be around long enough to have to 'worry' about a rotten tooth! Also I was probably still on a high after having been called 'an old friend' of the brain scanning centre by my oncologist. The latest scan results remain good: 'appearances radiologically stable… no suggestions of recurrence'.

About a year after writing, in this very blog, 

How am I? Shit-scared when I look down, because—damn!!—we're flying high!

I know that the fear will never leave me. But maybe today it's a little less acute; the question a little less about how to stay airborne, a little more about where to fly next.