21/10/1989
Saturday, 21st October
Dear diary, the trip to Spain was fine, until it wasn’t. It started peacefully, exploring the Muggle world, especially the works of the architect Gaudi. I still can’t believe that La Sagrada Familia is still under construction! And there’s still so much left to do!
But Julius started sneezing and coughing more frequently after the first three days in Spain. Soon, we all caught it. Fortunately, it was just a magical flu, so nothing too serious, but we were stuck in the hotel for a little over a week.
Dad was affected too but refused to rest and spent his time taking care of us, until he couldn’t anymore and spent the last three days in bed with a high fever. Thanks to Merlin and Morgana, I had almost completely recovered by then, so I took it upon myself to care for Dad and the others who were still a bit unwell.
I don’t like it, but I’m glad that James forced me to learn to cook from such a young age because it was extremely helpful. In the end, the ones who took the longest to recover were Dad, because he didn’t rest when he should have, and Julius, because his immune system wasn’t fully prepared for his first magical flu.
After that, we only had a few days left to visit the magical part of this country before our international Portkey was scheduled, but it wasn’t the same. We were all still a bit tired and sore, so it wasn’t a very pleasant trip.
It was the longest time I spent without thinking much about Mum or drawing her, and surprisingly, I don’t feel too bad about it. When I thought about Mum, I could only feel protected and cared for by her, as if she were still here.
Now I understand her letter a bit more, where she said she would always be there for me. I felt her with me in every detail Dad did to make me feel better and more comfortable. It was nice to know that Mum is not only with me, but also that at least a little piece of her is in Dad.
It’s hard to explain, but the way he cleaned my forehead or whispered sweet nothings was exactly how I remembered Mum acting. Even his chicken and vegetable soup tasted just like Mum’s when she made it for Xavier and me when we were sick. It’s an extremely blurry memory, and it surprises me that I remember it at all because I must have been no older than a year and a half when Mum took care of us like that.
Anyway, despite being sick and hardly seeing any of Spain, I’m glad I realised this detail that Dad and Mum share. I decided to see if they have more things in common, and indeed they do!
When Dad eats something he dislikes, he slightly furrows his brow and changes hands with the cutlery for a moment, just like Mum! And when he sleeps, he hugs a pillow and sleeps on his right side, just like Mum used to!
For the rest of our travels, I intend to explore more similarities between Dad and Mum!
Next destination: Bulgaria!
See you,
Goodbye!