Providential - A true story you wouldn´t believe

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Do you know that feeling, that you have to do something.....but can´t quite remember what?
This story is just that.
I remember being told to write it but I can´t remember what I was supposed to tell you. What I do know is that everything I am going to tell you really happened, even though it may unbelievable sometimes.

Hit Rewind to start from Chapter One

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Chapter 26

Stephanie was indeed a star in feeding her opponents a narrative that would result in her getting her way, while the opposing party felt they were doing the smart thing.
Once she became the mama, the narrative did not change but her modus operandi did.

The birth had taken its toll on her. It was a 32-hour disaster leaving her exhausted. The hormones that ruled her during the last six months of her pregnancy had dulled her chronic illnesses. An illness that was hard to label but caused her to have good days, and bad days.
Bad days meant that there was just no energy to do anything but the pure basics. Basics like taking care of Kyrian-Elijah´s immediate needs.

Yes indeed, she had not been able to come up with a better name, not even in six months.

Those first months in which everything is new flew by, and in those few moments you have to yourself we came to a conclusion. We needed to think about where to go from here. Stephie completed her internship and after her maternity leave replaced a teacher that just took her maternity leave.

Me, I was thinking about branching out. After doing monthly gigs for over 2000 people what is next?

Stephie was eligible for a permanent position as a part-time teacher and I started some talks with people doing line-ups for festivals, that would be the logical next leg up for the both of us. As soon as you open that door, looking for more, for the next steps in life, things happen.

That is when opportunity comes knocking;
knock knock do you want to house sit in the South of Spain?

My America Latina lust started flowing through my veins right away. We already had agreed that America Latina with this little one was out of the question, too much turmoil and too far away from the family.

South of Spain then probably would be the next best thing life could offer me, although I had never been to Spain. The offer came from my mother-in-law and her new husband who had just moved there.

I could see clearly how she used our crossroads in life to lure us down south, so she would not be lonely and miss out on her grandchild growing up.

Now I see, what I missed back then. That she uses the exact same tactics as her daughter did to get what she wants. It took me years to see her for who she was, and even then I did not see that her DNA copy did exactly the same thing. How blind can a young boy be?

The story she spun was how we could have a 3-month period to see if we liked it and for me to find a job that combined with Stephie's benefits would allow us to stay longer. Well, No Way Jose (which by chance is the most common name in that region of Spain). I had two jobs and I was sure that 3 months would never be enough to find something new.

The snake, aka mother-in-law, was persistent because they improved on the offer two weeks late.

As soon as their house was ready we could move into their apartment, which was not that expensive. To earn enough to keep our heads above le mar, I could start turning their pile of rocks into a garden. That would pay the rent and Stephie´s benefits could pay for the rest.

That was a g.d. carrot dangling there, right in front of my nose. A nose connected to my brain that has been dreaming about leaving this cold, grey, wet country called The Netherlands for ages.

Would we really take this exit, that the highway called life offered? It meant leaving three jobs, a house, and 5 grandparents behind.

If we would leave that behind, the next step was to move 2400 kilometers down south. All this happened after being married for just a year and having a baby that was not even a year old?

Wasn´t that pure social, financial, and emotional suicide?

My career was doing well, I was the biggest DJ the club had known in a very long time. I played bigger stages every month, but as I said before, there was still this little boy inside me that was afraid that one day they would see through the act.

In my mind, it was just a matter of time before the crowd would figure out that I technically sucked. I just had this great empathic feeling that guided me. It told me what the crowd wanted, what I needed to play to please them and give them a sense of recognition.

What they wanted was so easy, it was a little of what they did not expect, and then leave them hanging. Leave them wanting, returning, always coming back for more.

I did not want that to fade, as I had seen with so many of the colleagues I looked up to. They lost it, the crowd spitted them out and no matter how good they were, nobody got turned on by them anymore.

Quitting while I was ahead, while I was not found out and labeled a fraud. I would be a legend, leaving and living in a whole new country. They would talk about me for another decade. Remember Pluis, those were the days that the club was filled, and the dancefloor was set on fire.

How often does an opportunity like that come around? Well once in 29 years at least. We grabbed had with four hands, sold the little bit of furniture we got, and celebrated Kyrian´s first birthday in a little white village in the Spanish Apujarra.