"Scenes From Another Room" - My Story: Part Four

"There are quiet places in my heart, ever since we've parted. Gentle, tender, traces of a song, places that belong to you..."

Part Four - "Saying Goodbye":

We got to the airport in Rio at the end of a most terrible day. I was in shock, I felt devastated, my body was exhausted and my heart felt as if it had been punched a thousand times.
The time of my flight was getting near, Antonio and I were saying our Goodbye's when I suddenly felt the urge that I needed to phone my Father. I rang his number, it was the early hours of the morning in England, and he answered it. "Hello Dad, it's me, just to let you know that I'll be getting on my plane soon" I said "Son..." he said "I have some bad news, I've just come from the hospital and, well.... I'm sorry Son but Mum passed away ten minutes ago" "Oh Dad!!" I said and broke down "O.k. Son, keep strong and I'll meet you at the airport when you land" he said.
Antonio was listening to me and he already knew and as soon as I put the phone down he put his arms around me, held me tight and kissed my neck. I didn't even think about keeping up our "public appearances" and I really didn't care, I felt like the whole world just got so much smaller.

My flight ticket was for me to return in one month so we said Goodbye at the departure gate and I passed through customs to get on the plane.
That journey was the worst that I have ever experienced in my whole life, I felt so sad and so unstable and all I could think about was my Mum and the fact that I was now going home for her funeral without getting to talk to her first, to kiss her or to hold her hand.
It was twelve hours of flight time and all I could do was sit there. I couldn't watch any films or read any magazines or books, instead I was just sitting there in my seat, looking out the window across the sky, and thinking and thinking and thinking, and crying quietly to myself.

Once I was in England I got my suitcase at the baggage claim and went through customs to see if my Dad was there. There was Dad looking ten years older with all the stress and grief written all over his face. I walked up to him and we put our arms around each other and cried. I had never seen my Father so devastated in all my life. We stood there for about twenty minutes just crying.
We got home and had a cup of tea and started talking about Mum. Dad explained to me that it had been a very difficult few months, and told me all about Mum's wish for me not to know anything. I could see in my Dad's eyes that this had all been very difficult for him and it was showing in his face. I didn't question why as I didn't feel it was the right time, but all I could think in my mind was how terrible I felt at not being there for my Mum when she had been there for me every step of my life, through good and bad times... I felt extremely guilty and just terribly grief-stricken and in complete shock at hearing the bad news only the day before.

The next day we were all sitting in the living room (my Dad, my Sister and I) and we didn't bother getting ready to go out or anything, we just talked and talked, and cried. As the days went on we were all getting worse, my Dad was falling apart and my Sister couldn't handle dealing with anything at all and in the end she couldn't even talk, instead just sitting upstairs in her bedroom alone and playing music.
My Nan was coming down from her house that day (she lived two hours from London) as we needed to start dealing with the funeral arrangements and inviting people, all those terrible things that need to be done fast...
My Dad said that he didn't think he could do anything, that he couldn't handle it all, so I said to him "Do you want me to arrange everything? I can do it with Nan, you don't have to do anything Dad... don't worry, I'll do it all" so he agreed and when my Nan arrived she came with me to the funeral home and arranged everything; the casket, the flowers, the cars, the funeral, everything.

The man in the funeral home asked if we wanted to see Mum and my Nan said no. I said "Yes I want to see her" my Nan looked at me and said "Are you sure? Wouldn't you prefer to have the memories of her as she was? it isn't her in there you know?!..." but I said "Yes, I really need to do this Nan, I need to say Goodbye" and she said "You're a very brave boy" and off I went into the little room to see her.
I stood there and spoke to her, I touched her hand and said that I was sorry that I wasn't there for her. I thanked her for everything she had done for me in my life and for all the love and support that she had given me and then I said Goodbye.

We got home to my Dad and Sister and told them that everything was done and that the funeral would be on the following Monday at 2.p.m.
"He did everything, I'm so proud of him and he has kept so strong" said my Nan to my Dad "Thanks Son" said my Dad, the permanent tears in his eyes "I don't need to be thanked Dad, it's my duty to Mum, I owe her at least that" I said breaking down in tears again.
Then came the time to phone all the family and friends to inform them of the funeral day, place and time. I phoned them all... awful phone calls with everyone crying, a terrible thing to have to do.
We went to the florists to order our wreaths for Mum and to write our cards out that go on the flowers: "My Darling Mum, I love you forever, I miss you forever, I'll carry your love with me all through my life... Your Loving Son... Forever"

The days leading up to the funeral day were terrible. My Dad and Sister were getting worse and worse and so was I. However I was trying my hardest not to show it and tried to keep strong for them both. I would go to bed at night and cry myself to sleep in my pillow, the tears were endless and I would beg to see my Mum in the darkness of the room, to be able to say Goodbye to her properly... but the room just stayed dark.

The funeral day was here and I felt as if I couldn't go through with it, but of course we all had to get through it together. Dad held mine and my Sister's hands as we walked into the church to the sound of the music that we had chosen for Mum "Places That Belong To You" by Barbra Streisand, one of Mum's favourite singers.
Once it was over then came the time to leave the church and say thank you to all the guests; family and friends. Everyone was in a line and we thanked each of them one at a time. This was the priest's idea and I didn't like it at all as by the time I got half way I was in a real state and my Mum's Sister, my Aunt, got hold of me and gave me a big cuddle. All the stress and heartache leading up to that day had just accumulated and I couldn't hold it all in anymore and just broke down, losing the strength in my legs as she held me up.
Everyone came back to the house but we all just wanted everyone to go home fast so that we could just be together... My Dad, my Sister and I.

I stayed there in England for a month and my Dad was gradually getting a bit better. I missed Antonio so much and just wished that he could have been there with me so that I could have been held and have him to talk to about all my feelings when we were alone.
My aunt, my Mum's Sister, was planning to move to Spain and said that now she was going to go as she didn't have my Mum there anymore. They were so close and would see each other every day. My Aunt still lives in Spain now and we keep in regular contact via e-mail and letters and she always says that we both ran away to different countries to escape the pain in London.

The time had come for me to return to Brazil. I felt so very sad having to say Goodbye all over again and we were all very upset again, but I had seen a small improvement in my Dad and Sister and I knew that they would be o.k. I also felt so pleased that I was able to help in some small way to arrange everything for my Dad, but mostly for my Mum.
We all said our Goodbye's and my Nan gave me an envelope full of money. I refused it but she insisted and said "Now listen here, I may not get to see you again, I'm not getting any younger so this is just something that would be all your Birthday and Christmas presents in one, so buy some furniture and things that you and Antonio need there in Brazil" "O.k. Nan, thank you! I will buy some nice things with it" I said and finally went through to get my plane.

When I arrived in Brazil I felt exhausted, sad, drained and extremely depressed. I was pleased to be getting home to Antonio and the thought that we would be together. I wanted to talk about so many things, all about Mum and everything that had happened in England.
I went through customs and there was Antonio, we put our arms around each other and went to get a cab to go home...
When we got into the apartment he said to me "I have some bad news" and I said "Oh no, what now?!" then he went on to tell me that he had got a job working offshore and was being sent to work away at sea the next morning for four weeks and that he would be home in a month's time and would then have four weeks at home... it would be like this each time: four weeks on and four weeks off.
I was devastated, I had come home only to be alone, depressed, sad, still in shock and grief-stricken, but we had no choice, he had to take the job.

So in the times that I would be alone, so as not to go completely insane, I started writing poetry, all poems about my Mum, grief and what I was feeling, and all this helped me a lot. It was like a psychologist for me and I feel that it helped me a lot, especially as I didn't have any friends or family in Brazil to talk to or talk about everything that I was feeling at that time.

It was a long three years of deep depression. I had felt o.k. when I came back to Brazil but then I got really bad and I realised that I had been holding everything in and still didn't really believe that everything had actually happened. I fell into a black hole and it took me three years to drag myself back out of it. Sometimes I would be on the street and see an old woman and realise in my mind that I would never get to see my Mum like that and I would get upset. Sometimes I would be in a supermarket and have to leave and go home as I would just start crying there and then in the queue full of people.
My feelings and sadness were all heightened and I couldn't control any of it. I think I was worse because I didn't have the support of my family around me, some kind of "healing"
Those three years are a blur and all I can remember is writing my poetry... of which I have the proof: a whole book written full of those poems that were spilling all my feelings and tears out onto the page. All the sadness I felt that inspired me every single day to write, and each poem would only take me ten minutes from the time I started writing it until the time I finished it... all my feelings were just pouring out into my writing and I really feel that they saved me, that's a fact. Then, after some time, my writing started getting better... improving in lightness and tone, along with how I was beginning to feel.... better... I was finally in the phase of acceptance.

Here is one of the poems that I wrote during that time, called "Grief" click here

So now that you have wiped away your tears upon reading all this sadness I promise that Part Five is going to be only happiness and joy - the road to the future, to this place that I have arrived finally with happiness, joy, wonderful memories and love... Thanks so much for reading!

"Amazing"

George Michael - "Amazing"

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I was mixed up when you came to me
Too broke to fix
Said 'daddy get you gone,
I'm missing my baby' Still missing my baby

I was stitched up by the hands of fate
Said how you gonna make it on your own
If luck is a lady?
Maybe luck is a lady

I was going down for the third time
My heart was broken, I was not open to your suggestions
I had so many questions
That you just kissed away

Tell me, I guess that cupid was in disguise
The day you walked in and changed my life
I think it's amazing,
The way that love can set you free

So now I walk in the midday sun
I never thought that my saviour would come
I think it's amazing
I think it's amazing

I think you're amazing!

You tried to save me from myself
Said 'Darling, kiss as many as you want!
My love's still available
And I know you're insatiable'

We're like victims of the same disease
Look at your Big Bad Daddy, and your mom
And your mom...was always acting crazy

I was going down for the third time
My heart was broken,
I thought that loving you was out of the question
Then I saw my reflection
Saying please don't let this go...

Tell me, I guess that cupid was in disguise
The day you walked in and changed my life
I think it's amazing,
The way that love can set you free

So now I walk in the midday sun
I never thought that my saviour would come
I think it's amazing
I think you're amazing!

Celebrate the love of the one you're with

Celebrate, this life with you baby
I think you should celebrate yeah
Don't put your love in chains baby
No no, walk in the midday sun
I thought I was dreaming
I think it's amazing
I think you're amazing!

I said celebrate the love of the one you're with

As this life gets colder
And the devil inside
Tells you to give up

"Scenes From Another Room" - My Story: Part Three

“It's hard to be proud of your own sexuality when it hasn't brought you any joy. Once it's associated with joy, and love, it's easy to be proud of who you are.” (George Michael)

Part Three - "A New Life, A New Joy":

As the plane was making it's descent towards Rio I was looking out of the window at all of the wonderful views. The beautiful coastline and sea that embraces the city looked marvellous and I was extremely excited to finally arrive and see Antonio once more. The plane swept around the sea and made it's way onto the runway at Antonio Carlos Jobim Airport... finally I was on solid ground once more; a new land, a new life, a whole new beginning....

I passed through customs and pushed my trolley through the sea of people waiting for family and friends and as I scanned the crowd there was Antonio waving with a huge grin on his face. We shook hands and did our "public greeting" and went to get a cab.
"I've missed you so much!" he said "Me too! I couldn't wait to get here!"

And then it hit me: the heat! It was 40 degrees celcius outside and I had just come from a very cold London town... it's hard to explain how that heat hits you, you just can't seem to be able to breathe so well and it's like you have just put your face inside a hot oven. I was sweating and I needed to get somewhere to put my shorts and t-shirt on fast!

People were speaking everywhere and I didn't understand a word anyone was saying. The language here is Portuguese and I couldn't speak a word of it, although Antonio had taught me how to say "Obrigado" which means Thank You, but that was all I knew.
I knew that it was going to be very difficult for me to learn the language, but something that I just had to do, as nobody speaks English in Brazil. Well people do speak English... those that learn in English schools, but it just isn't used as a day to day language, it's Portuguese only here.

We got a cab and Antonio was speaking in Portuguese to the driver, which I found so great and strange hearing him speak in his own language. I had asked him to say words and phrases to me before but I had never actually heard him have a real conversation with someone.
I was looking at everything, taking in all the scenery and wonderful views. Everything was new and so exciting, but at the same time I felt so foreign because of the language barrier.
We arrived at a hotel that he had booked for us for a couple of days and then we would be going on to a place called Cabo Frio, which is on the coastline about 2 hours away from Rio, where we would stay for a while and have a little holiday after all the stress leading up to leaving London.
"If you don't like it we can go somewhere else but it's a very nice place and it has some beautiful beaches" he said. I just wanted to be somewhere where I could swim in a sea so deep and feel the warm sun on my face as I was in real need of a holiday.

We arrived there a couple of days later and true enough it was beautiful! We rented a little house very close to the beach and we spent five or six hours a day swimming in the sea and sunbathing. It was a little village, like a small town, and very calm and relaxing. We would go out of our door and be practically on the beach each morning, it was a little paradise by the sea.
After some days we started to get very tanned and within some weeks we were very, very dark indeed. My family come from Mediterranean blood (Italian and Spanish) which was from my great Grandparents so my skin gets dark very easily and when I have gone on holidays abroad people have mistaken me for a native - I'm not your average English guy.

We stayed there for a couple of months and then decided to move to Rio de Janeiro and live in the city as it would be easier to find work later on.
Antonio had been out of Brazil for ten years as he was living and working in many different countries, so things were quite new for him as well as things had changed quite a lot in that time.
I bought a newspaper every day and would sit down and start reading articles whilst checking every word in my Portuguese-English dictionary which was a very time-consuming thing but it would help me gradually. We would watch television when we were at home and Antonio would spend the whole time translating every single word for me. Looking back now he must have got very tired of doing that as it really was every single word as I didn't understand anything!

We would be on the street or in a supermarket and people would start speaking to me and I wouldn't know what to say as I didn't understand what anyone was saying to me... it's a very weird situation and I felt like an alien and relied on Antonio totally to help me with buying things or asking information, in fact when we were out I didn't speak at all, only when I spoke to him in English.

We visited all the tourist spots in Rio, including the Christ statue that I spoke about in an earlier post, which was so great and we took lots of photos. We went to the Pão de Açucar (Sugarloaf Mountain) which has two cable cars that take the visitors to each level - it stops at the first smaller mountain and then goes on to the main taller one. I was very nervous inside that thing as I hate heights and I couldn't look down at all. It was extremely high up, much higher than it looks when you see it from a distance and Antonio was over at the window looking out the front of the cablecar and saying to me "Come over here and see the view!" while I hung on for dear life saying "No it's o.k. I'm o.k. here in the middle!!" while the blood drained out of my face! I couldn't wait to get out of that glass box!
The views were all so wonderful! Rio is a truly beautiful city: sea surrounded by mountains, lots of green everywhere mixed with deep blue seas and golden yellow sands - green, blue and yellow: the colours of Brazil's flag.

I was phoning home quite a bit but mostly writing letters to my Mum and Dad, my Sister and also my Nan. This was all before the big arrival of the internet so things were much more difficult back then. I wish I had had the internet so that I could have kept in regular contact with my family through e-mails, but instead we were writing letters to each other every week and telling each other all our news.

It was now February and lately when I had phoned home my Mum was always out with her Sister, at the dentist or shopping... I always managed to speak to my Dad and my Sister but I wanted to speak to my Mum too.
Over the next few weeks I phoned a couple more times but still came the excuses from my Dad: "Mum's out shopping" "Oh you've just missed Mum, she's gone to her Sister's"
I thought to myself "What's going on?!"

We were having a great time in Rio, we would be at the beach most days and also travelling to see other cities close to Rio. We travelled some weekends to a place called Buzios, which is two and a half hours by car from Rio, and was made famous by Brigitte Bardot who retreated there in the sixties, to get away from the press, who were hounding her at the time. It was in her heyday when she was at her most popular.
It's a beautiful place and there is a wonderful bronze statue of her there, young as she was in the sixties, sitting on a suitcase and looking out to sea.
It was originally a small fishing village but now it has become internationally well-known, mainly by foreigners and celebrities who have holidays there.
Over the years it has been the holiday resort of Mick Hucknall, Madonna, Naomi Campbell and, when they were still together, Tom Cruise and Nicole Kidman.

We were back in Rio and one morning I was shaving in the bathroom when the porter buzzed our intercom. Antonio answered it and said that there was a telegram downstairs that had just been delivered for us. "A telegram??" I said, wondering why on earth we would be receiving a telegram...
Antonio came back into the apartment with it in his hand and said "It's for you..." I looked at him and I felt a wave of sadness enter my body and I couldn't open it, instead I got him to open it and read it to me.
"It's from your Dad" he said "Phone me urgently as soon as you get this! Mum's not well..."
We had been so happy all those months and I never imagined that anything bad could happen, my heart felt heavy and I knew something very bad was about to happen.

I phoned my Dad and he said "The doctor's have told me that I must phone you and tell you to book a flight home, Mum's in the hospital and she's very ill, they think she only has a few days left..." I dropped the phone and Antonio had to continue the conversation with my Dad.
That day we would be booking my flight for me to leave in the evening on another sad, long and lonely journey...

And that was just the beginning of a very dark, sad, terrible, terrible time...
I don't know how I got through it all but I always remember my Mum's words some years before that when I was going through a very bad time in London with an ex-partner:

"You have to be strong, don't think about anything else except that you WILL get through this! You don't think that you're strong but you are and it is now when you will find out how truly strong you are!!"

To be continued....

"Hideaway"

Before I write Part Three of my story I just wanted to share this song with you. The words resonate so much with me and my experiences, including the part about "shuffling off to Rio de Janeiro"!
It is "Hideaway" sung by Barbra Streisand with lyrics by Barry Gibb.
Here is the video and the lyrics are below:

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I saw you looking in the mirror
I saw you fighting with your conscious
I think you need a little time away
And I may give you mine

And you could find me in the moon glow
You find me underneath your pillow
And we can find a little hideaway
Where we can go

I'm in the corner with a friend of mine
I stood with my defenses down
So many things that bring you close to me
That we be led astray

The wonder of desire
To love the things we cannot touch
Maybe we turn and say goodnight
And walk away

And then the story can go on without
A single tear
You take a chance on it
And change the history

And for a time we fall in love with someone
So who am I to say the words that say
We have found each other
Can we imagine any hideaway is right?

And our adventure
Down in paradise
Borne upon the wind
And we are one with the night

Maybe we shuffle off to Rio
A little Rio de Janeiro
And then I get a little chance to say
I'm falling into you!

And you and I can change the world
If we just try (One hideaway)
This lonely heart of mine has found
A mission for your light (In your world)

To make the sense of it
And solve the mystery (In my arms)
It's just the love you forever leave
With someone

So who am I to say the words that say
We've found each other? (One sunny day)
Can we imagine any
Hideaway is right (In your world)

And our adventure
Down in paradise (In my arms)
Born upon the wind
And we are one with the night

And our adventure down in paradise
Borne upon the wind
And we are one with the night
Hmmm-Hmmmmmm

"Scenes From Another Room" - My Story: Part Two

Part Two - "Finding Love And Leaving London":

The Spanish music was playing loudly in the Tapas bar, some "Gypsy Kings" style music, and the whole place was buzzing with life and energy on that Saturday night.
"Do you want another drink?" he said "Yeah, I'll have a Grolsch lager please!" I said as I watched him go to the bar, whilst my two friends came over to shout "Oi Oi!!" and "Get in there my son!" in my ear - my London friends are total yobs!

The music was still playing but I couldn't hear any of it, all I could hear was the voice of... let's call him Antonio... His strong latin accent sounding every word in English as if it was music written by Tom Jobim...
We spoke all night long in that bar, oblivious to all the noise going on around us, and we talked about everything, never before had I met anyone so charming, so charismatic and who really listened to everything I said with genuine interest and understanding.
He was six years older than me, he was intelligent, had travelled to many different countries and at that time he was working as a head chef in a good London restaurant. He had dark hair, dark eyes, tanned skin and was extremely handsome. He told me he is what is known as a "Carioca" which is the name given to someone who is from Rio de Janeiro, where he was born.

The night was coming to an end and the bar was emptying out, the people all going home or going on to one of the many clubs in my neighbourhood...
"I want to take you out for a meal tomorrow night" he said "Where?" I said "I'll find a great place, just meet me outside the Empire Leicester Square tomorrow night at 8!" he said
"O.k. cool!, great!" I said, as we exchanged telephone numbers outside the bar. He got a cab as I walked home to my apartment, which was only around the corner.

The following nights went by and we decided to start dating as we were falling in love, we got along so well and the chemistry was wonderful.
Other relationships I had been in were sometimes awkward, you know those awkward moments in a restaurant when one person is looking at the other one not knowing what to say and searching everything in their mind to say at least something and not look like an absolute idiot?! Well there were none of those moments with us, as every single moment we were talking, laughing and joking, it was great.

After some weeks Antonio moved in with me in my apartment and we lived there for quite some months, both working and going out every weekend together.
I felt a huge change within myself, I was extremely happy, I was happier than any other time in my life and I felt wonderful, I was walking on air laced with a Brazilian accent.
I had dated girls and guys in the past but this was different, this was real and I knew it.
As I remembered the other people I had dated in my past they all just seemed so insignificant, you see I had never really been in love before, not real love, not until now.

The months went by, my family had been introduced to Antonio in the very beginning and everyone loved him, especially my Mum.
At Christmas we were all at my Mum and Dad's house celebrating, eating and drinking champagne with music playing in the background. My Mum's two favourite singers were Elton John and Luciano Pavarotti and she put on the CD single that they had recorded together that I had got her from my work the year before, called "Live Like Horses"
I was watching my Mum and she was so happy, we all were. She was singing along to the song as she laughed and joked with Antonio. It was a great Christmas and subsequently would be the last one that I would get to spend with her. Wonderful, wonderful memories and I am so pleased that we were all together at such a special time.

One evening in January I had just got in from work when Antonio came rushing in the door "I have something very important to tell you" he said with a face that looked so worried and his hands were shaking "My God what is it?!" I said.
I was thinking to myself: is he married and he's just about to tell me? but then came the bombshell:
"I need to go back to Brazil, my visa has ran out and I can't stay here anymore but I don't want to lose you!" he said with tears in his eyes. I was so upset and was thinking that after all these wonderful months together that we would now be forced apart. "Oh my God what are we going to do?!" I said "I don't want to lose you either!"
All night we were very sad and discussing all our options. "You know you could come with me..." he said and at that moment the dark clouds in my mind all went away and I decided there and then "Yes, that's it, I'm coming with you! If you had to go anywhere I would follow you to any country!"
I had decided that my job wasn't a problem as I wasn't happy there anymore, so that part was easy. The difficult part was going to be saying goodbye to my family: my Mum, Dad and Sister...

I told everyone at work that I would be leaving, that I was going to live in Brazil and I handed in my notice.
"You're crazy" they said, well most of them said that. "You'll never survive there! they don't even speak English! I guarantee you'll be back within three months!" I told them that I would just have to learn the language and that I can survive anywhere.

I put off telling my parents for a while as it was such a hard thing to do and I knew that they would be very upset, the weeks were going on and I decided that I just had to sit down and tell them one Sunday afternoon. I looked at my Mum and said "I don't know how to tell you this but...." and then I explained everything.
My Mum cried and so did I, but she said to me "You go... go and be happy, I can see that you are so happy now with Antonio and he is a very good man, I know he'll look after you and we can see each other next Christmas... just promise me you'll be home to spend Christmas with us!" "I promise, we'll be here" I said as we held each other tight.
My Dad was upset too but he's always been a man that doesn't show his feelings very much, however he looked at me with tears in his eyes and said these words that I will never forget: "You're a very brave young man, you're doing something that I could never have the courage to do and I'm proud of you Son!" We were all crying, in all the years I had grown up with my Dad he had never said anything so poignant to me, I knew he loved me of course but all those things were just never in his vocabulary.

The day had come for Antonio to go to Brazil... he was going there one week before me to arrange a place to stay and to talk to his family before I would arrive there in Rio a week later.
I had already left my job and my Mum and I went out every day together talking, laughing and remembering happy times, I took her out to restaurants and sometimes I would look at her smiling and laughing and would feel so sad inside that I would be leaving very soon.

She stayed with me at my apartment that whole week and we would stay up very late every night talking and watching films together, but mostly we were talking.

My Mum was always a huge inspiration in my life, she taught me everything I know and I always remember being five or six years old tugging on her legs, in the room that she had made into an office, as she was sitting down at her typewriter writing her articles for the newspaper.
I didn't see my Dad so much growing up as, being as he was a newspaper photographer, he would always be out working and would only come home long after I had gone to bed and many times he would be travelling on assignments too, so he was more like a "weekend Dad"

I had nothing but love and support from my parents my whole life, nothing I did was ever so bad that they wouldn't be there for me, through good times and bad times, and whenever I needed to talk about anything at all I knew that I had my Mum who I could go to and get advice, support and I would always feel much better after a good chat and a few cups of tea with her.
I miss that enormously, I really do. Nothing would prepare me for the fact that that would be the final week that I would ever see my Mum, the final week that we would have our days out together and get to talk about our lives, our achievements, our failures and all our ambitions.
I never knew that at the age of 56 years old my Mum would be saying goodbye to me permanently, that I would be losing this wonderful loving Mother, my best friend who had always been there for me all of my life and seen me through so many difficult phases.

The last night in my apartment with my Mum was a very emotional one. We had spent the whole week talking about everything, everything except my departure from England...
and then, on that final night, we started really speaking about it. I won't go into any details here but as you can imagine it was a very sad night and I remember so well waking up many times during the early hours of the morning to find my Mum sitting in the kitchen with the lights on drinking coffee and crying at the kitchen table, unable to sleep.
She gave me a card in a sealed envelope and said to me "Don't open that now, I don't want you to open it until you're on that plane"

The day had come for me to leave, My Mum, Dad and Sister were taking me to the airport with two large suitcases packed full of all of my most precious belongings. I gave all my CD's and other belongings to my Sister and on the day that we left my apartment I gave her the keys to my car and said "These are for you, I want you to have my car, so look after it!" She cried, I cried, we all cried and I had been going to the bathroom constantly being sick and my stomach felt terrible.

We were at the airport, my Dad was taking photographs as usual, and the time of my flight was getting nearer and nearer...
We walked towards the departure gate and my Mum started sobbing... we all clung onto each other, crying, and held each other so tight until the final call. Eventually I had to go and I said that I wouldn't look back as I walked through to the departure lounge. But I did look back and my Mum and Sister were sobbing uncontrollably as my Dad held them... that would be the very last memory I have of my Mum as I walked around the corner.

As I sat on the plane, thinking about everything and trying not to let other passengers and the cabin crew see my tears I remembered the card in the sealed envelope that my Mum had given me the night before. I took it from my hand luggage and opened it. Inside was three thousand pounds in cash and a beautiful card with the words:

My Beautiful Darling Son,
This week has been the worst week of my life, knowing that I am losing you. I've tried to hide it from you as I didn't want to spoil our last week together.
Go and live your life and always be happy, the way that I have seen you these past few months. Travel as much as you can and see the world and then when you write home and tell me all about it I will live through your eyes and see everything that you have seen.
I can't tell you how blessed I feel to have a Son as wonderful as you, as loving as you, as thoughtful and kind as you are.
Always follow your dreams, anything you want to do just do it because too much time is spent in life thinking about whether or not we should do something and worrying about what other people think, so never be afraid to be yourself.
I've put three thousand pounds in this card so that you have some money to fall back on should you need it, but if times are ever hard out there let us know and we will send you some more.
I love you, I love you, I love you! and see you next Christmas!
All my love,
Mum
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Everything I knew in my life, up until that point, I was giving up for love... my family, my friends, my job, everything, as I knew that this was the right decision and that it was the next phase in my life...

This has all been very difficult for me to write, as well as being something very personal it has also been difficult to show myself through my text.
I have friends here but they're not real friends as absolutely nobody knows anything about my private life and who I really am. My friends and family all know about me in London but nobody knows here in Brazil.
Me and Antonio lead a very private life and we aren't the kind of people to be telling everyone all about our lives and many times that can be very difficult, especially when friends and colleagues know nothing about you, only the story that you "live with your friend who you share a house and the bills with"
Brazil is a very catholic country and not so accepting when it comes to gay issues. There is still a lot of homophobia and prejudice here and it's not advanced like England is (London in particular) where you can more or less be yourself without worrying about how work colleagues or friends would react.
Antonio is in a kind of high profile job and people who he works with could never know.
We don't "fly the flag" for gay rights and we aren't militant types, we are just two men, two very normal guys who happen to love each other and who have been happily "married" for 13 years now...
So now I ask any prejudiced people out there reading this: how many heterosexual marriages do you know that have lasted at least that long? and if two people love each other, no matter what sex they are, should that be a crime?

Very soon I will be writing Part Three, all about Rio and the beginning in Brazil...
To be continued......

"Scenes From Another Room" - My Story: Part One

After a few posts that weren't so upbeat and full of joy I decided to post a little bit of my story here, after all I am a very positive person and very happy to be finally living the life that I always wanted.... so here goes - My Humble Story, Part One - "London Music":

I come from a family that has always worked in the British newspaper industry, my Father was, and still is, (although he's now semi-retired) a newspaper photographer, he never did anything else all his life and me and my Sister grew up constantly having our photos taken on a day to day basis and also being prepared for endless boring portraits in professional photographer's studios.
My Mother was a journalist and her speciality was the arts: theatre, cinema, music, books... however she gave it up for some years to raise me and my Sister and she worked mostly freelance from home afterwards.
Most of my Aunts and Uncles also work in the newspaper industry as features editors, journalists, printers and copy-taking readers.

So it was inevitable that I would also enter this profession.
Although just before I left school to go to university I shocked my Father with the news that I wanted to become an actor. I had studied drama all my school life and acted in various school plays and local amateur productions and , according to what my drama teacher told me, I had a promising career ahead of me in that field and I had the chance to enter a very good drama school in central London. However at that time I was young and didn't have the confidence to stand up to my Father and his views, who was telling me that acting was a profession for fools who weren't interested in making money or being properly qualified, that I would spend all of my time unemployed...

So off I went to the London School of Journalism to study my future trade and earn my degree.
Incidentally my Sister has been the only "black sheep" in the family as she is a nurse working very long hours in a London hospital, although she isn't working at the moment and I'm not sure if she will ever go back to work as she has recently given birth to a baby Daughter, my first Niece.

I started working for various newspapers as an assistant journalist until finally finding my vocation as an assistant music journalist, following in the footsteps of my Mother who also worked in that field.
It was 1990 and at that time most of my work had nothing to do with journalism... instead I was making cups of tea, answering telephones, running errands and going out to fetch sandwiches for the "real" journalists, the usual stuff when you are just beginning in the job. It sounds easy but in fact it was hard work and I enjoyed it. Then one day one of the music journalists saw a potential in me and my writing and, in also seeing my huge interest and knowledge of music, he took me under his wing and said that I could work exclusively for him.

It was an exciting time, I was overwhelmed, everything was new, I was young, baby-faced and looking at everything wide-eyed. I was taken along to launch parties for new CD albums by many talented artists, as well as many that weren't so talented as well.
I went to many shows and concerts with an all-access press pass and got to meet some wonderful artists and even sometimes got to talk to them about their life and work, which was amazing. I never had to buy a CD as I would always get them free on pre-release and promotional use only.

I spoke to Robbie Williams for almost half an hour at the launch party of one of his CD albums, I shook Elton John's hand backstage at his concert in 1994 at the Royal Albert Hall and was so in awe of him that I couldn't speak... my throat was dry and I was smiling nervously and sweating profusely as he said to me "So you are entering the world of music journalism? God help us!!" haha!
Me and my family are huge fans of his, I grew up listening to his music from the time I was in nappies and when I was 9 or 10 years old I would sing his songs into an old tape recorder which my Father still has and he has been known to play back tapes of me singing "Benny And The Jets" or "Crocodile Rock" in a high-pitched pre-pubescent voice at various times in my life, to embarrass me in front of family and friends! - I'll get my revenge one day!

So all of the 90's I was in this life of surrealism, a kind of sealed bubble, nothing seemed real and I had no social life or family life to myself - none at all! because I was working 9 to 5 on Mondays to Saturdays, I worked every holiday including Christmas Eve and sometimes New Year's Eve, and many nights during the week after work (and sometimes weekends) I had to go to the CD launch parties, concerts and after-show celebration parties which would go well into the early hours of the morning, in fact most times we would all just roll into work the next day straight from one of those parties without any sleep at all... it was exhausting, fun but exhausting and I felt I had no life to myself... it's a good thing that I love music, but I was permanently knackered.

The parties were sometimes complete madness... there would always be a constant flow of never-ending champagne, alcohol and excellent food, all free for the taking, along with a heavy amount of drug-taking secretly going on "behind the scenes"
There was a huge amount of shallowness in that world. So many people at those parties and events were only there because of being a "friend of a friend" and most of the conversation from those people was absolute drivel... sometimes I would be listening to them and thinking to myself "What the fuck am I doing here?!"
Then there were my friends, who weren't in the newspaper business, who would all be phoning me to get them a free backstage pass to some party or concert and asking me for free CD's.
Anyone who I met at a club or a party outside my work would, within minutes of knowing my profession, be clawing at me to get them into that "wonderful world" and trying to take me home with them for the night to "woo me"
Sometimes I went with them because deep down I felt lonely and I needed to feel wanted, even if it was just for one night, but afterwards I would feel very used and I felt like shit.

I didn't feel real, I felt used by everyone and I wasn't happy at all. Many people would say to me "I bet you really love your job!" and I would reply "Yeah I really do!" Sometimes I would complain about some parts of my job to people and they would look at me as if I was mad and say "But you're so lucky! many people would love to have that job!"
Then when I would be sitting on my own at home, thinking about my life and work, I would think to myself "Wake up! you're not really happy!"

But even so the years went by, the 90's were almost coming to an end, I had given up working on Saturdays so that I could have more of a normal social life. I was good at my job but the music scene had changed vastly over those years and we were entering a phase of "throwaway bubblegum pop" new artists that were so cheesy and talentless that I was becoming more and more tired of my work and meeting so many "hanger-ons" and shallow people who had no conversation other than "Ooh I'm such a huge fan of his or her's...."
There were the solid gold talented artists of course: Elton John, George Michael, Sting, Lisa Stansfield, Robbie Williams, Annie Lennox, e.t.c... whom I love, but they usually only release a CD album every 2-3 years, and in the case of George Michael even more...
As for those that regularly do concerts and world tours Elton John is the only one who really falls into that bracket.

I had started going out more at weekends, now that I wasn't working on Saturdays, and I made a point of not mentioning to people anything about the work that I did, instead I would say that I was just an office boy in a newspaper and so I started meeting some real people, people who didn't want to use me and many were very genuine indeed, I started to enjoy myself on my own terms for the first time in my life.
Then Bam!!! One night I was out with friends in a tapas bar in Notting Hill (the place where I lived in London) and I met someone Brazilian and fell head over heels in love!! I felt it so strongly that I knew it right there and then, it was as if my heart had exploded with joy and felt naturally connected at the same time... It was amazing and my life was beginning to change entirely from that very point on...
I had been saved by an angel and I was the happiest guy in the whole wide world, I was walking on air and I knew that nothing else mattered in my life, all I could think about was being in love and how ecstatically happy and elated I was.

Then Brazil started calling me....

To be Continued.............