***
Pious. That is how is the woman that has to be celebrated. A portrait of Sophie, my cousin. A spiritual beauty. She always surprised me with that. I have seen her extremely rarely, since her father, my uncle Raoul, used to live in Perpignan, a little charming town on the French Riviera, but each time she had that look. It is like the Sky inhabits her head. She loves God, Sophie. She is shredding a tear, right now. I love you too, Sophie. Kiss your sisters for me.
One of the oldest memory I have about her date from when we were below ten years old. Here, in Tours, at the soccer field of Granmond. We were a Sunday soccer family. Manuel was the star of the Spanish team: El Deportivo. I wasn't taller than three apple when I already had by full Barcelona outfit. I was supposed to become a professional. It was decided. I disappointed a lot. My generation won the world cup of 1998 anyway. I even got laid that night. A miracle. Sacred Julie.
We were so bored. Poor Sophie. I guess it's even harder for ladies. Men are such brutes. That shot would have crush her head. Heavens. Or at least it would have hurt her real good. Flooohm! She was leaning against a tree by the left shoulder, watching towards me, when that ball struck the tree just above her head. And by just above I mean a millimeter. Just perfectly just above. Magic. And so strong! What a shoot. You know, the guys where warming up before the game, it was like he never shot stronger. I am surprised the guy aim't broke himself a bone. She ain't moved an eyebrow. She is good, Sophie, at ain't giving a damn anytime men are doing something. She is a contemplative mind. Sure that nowadays the .gif would reach both Imager and Reddit's front page. Floosh, Sophie ain't giving a damn! But, beautiful. I am trying to describe you her face, her expression I should say. If sunrise was a smile, she would be looking like the moment just before. Not the opposite of a smile, therefore not a frown, just imagine waking up in Paradise for the first time, because you were already adoring God in your Spirit, all your life, and you smile. That is her glance. Humble but not belittled. Adoring but not forced to. Not smiling but, it is because her mouth is still on earth, and, no hate on her lips too. Confident, unafraid, in peace. A woman to paint. I wish I had the classic technics. It's too late now. I am stuck with my minimalist fix. Three, four strokes maximum, or everybody sees that I basically don't know how to paint. I am the Cro-Magnon of modern art. I should draw my hand print on a wall somewhere. At some NASA's space center preferably. Old school! Putting the pigments in my mouth and spitting it all. Thank God sense of humor exist.
Vanessa was different. Her mother Lydia too. I am still embarrassed that I once got her beaten.
After the divorce of my parents, I lived with them. All week long Marina was in Le Mans. One years and a half long like that. To obtain a secretariat/accounting degree in a school for adults. The kind of second chance schools. And it for sure made her wealthier. She got a job right away, and also managed the masonry company that her new man started thank to her mastery of everything paper related.
Lydia too was a secretary at that time, and her too remarried with a man who has it's own masonry company, but, during these days, she was still married to Patrick, the Father of my cousins Frederic and Vanessa.
He had a job in Paris, and was back home only on weekends. So, we'd spend the week together, my cousins and I, with grandma most of time, and with Lydia after work.
In the beginnings I was put to sleep in Frederic's bed, with him. They had a foldable spare camping bed in a corner, but she was too lazy I guess to unfold it for me before bedtime. I had to sleep in my cousins urine. He used wet his bed when he was very little. Too afraid of his father I also guess. I do not blame him. He was really little. It's more her who obliged me to sleep in his son's pee, and it of course used to awake me every night, in the middle of it. I could never rest.
I recall myself, "accroupi" in front of that camping bed, understanding, since we receive our task in the eyes, that it was heavenly decided that I had to sleep in it. But I also recall that it was to hard, complicated for me unfold it. Even dangerous for my fingers, like that, without being shown how to at least once, and that I had to ask Lydia, since moving a few things, to do such a thing as unfolding a bed, in an apartment where moving a toe is basically forbidden, was like an earthquake. I didn't even asked her. They were people to whom you can't ask a thing. She started doing it after a while, when the Sky barked at her in some sort of way I am sure.
That is how I once got Vanessa beaten. Camping in that bed. She was such a rascal. I just really wanted to sleep that night, we had played enough in my opinion, so I hold her by her arm when she came again to play to one of these of kind pillow fight like games we had with my cousins. I wanted Lydia to see that it wasn't me all that noise. I was the elder after all. I had for responsibility to the mature one. Heavens... She yelled at her so much, I still feel guilty, and the need to say sorry to Vanessa. I mean, please, parents, no your kids are not destroying your whole life. It's not their bad. They don't play to drive you crazy. Do not massacre them. We understand that you went through a lot yourselves, but, you can better. Don't even spank. I mean at least not so easily, for so little.