Eamon Doggett . Things changed when Adrian’s father grew ill. They had been a family of few words, much left unsaid, and what was said was done to confuse.
In this way, they set puzzles for the other: they were fine when sad and nodded when they meant to shake their heads. Nor were they an emotional family in words, physical affection or obvious gestures. But their language and actions became direct and plain when the doctor told them that the cancer spreading around James’ body would kill him within two months.
Adrian fell on his father’s chest and told him he loved him. James’ four children and his wife did the same. It was the only time Adrian could remember his father crying.
They were all crying. There was some embarrassment in this, especially when Diana, Adrian’s mother, took tissues from her handbag and passed them around. Yet, saying the word aloud encouraged them to say it repeatedly until they had worn it out by James’ death six weeks later.
#1: (noun) An ineffable charge between beings that loses its power when tried in words. Two years later, Adrian, having been single for most of his life, met Heather through an online dating application. He saw pictures of her and pressed a button to say that he liked them, and she saw pictures of him and pressed a button to say she liked them.
A match was made in this way. Over coffee, they talked about their families. Heather’s parents were divorced and lived thousands of miles apart, but there was no ill feelin.