Today I went outside. I don’t remember the last day I went out, to be touched by the sun, to wear a smile and dive into decoration stores. I used to love looking for beautiful things and imagining them at home. I can’t remember putting on my makeup calmly and thinking about a fabulous day. Feeling «pretty» and looking for one of those uplifting songs that you shout in the car like crazy and say to yourself, wow, today is going to be a great day.

We have been staying at home for days, we have some health issues. Anyway, I have realized that I am capable of conforming, of adapting and that resilience exists in me. It does not mean that I have succeeded, but «acceptance» is a part of my daily duties.

And today I went out on the street. Not much, because blending in with the crowd dilutes and blurs you, but at the same time there is always someone friendly to greet you, sometimes a shy hello, sometimes a hug. Everything is welcome, and I’m still asked how are you? I’m still looking for the polite and appropriate answer. If only they knew the truth…

And the days pass by. The dates stick to your skin and you know you can’t get around them or skip them … you learn to prepare yourself to breathe and feel them. This year, the first times are hard and much less wish for. Mother’s Day was hard. It was bittersweet and was hard to assimilate being a mother of two suns where one of them is now my star, the one that shines brightly every night. My birthday without his kiss, and then came his birthday which was…sad, although full of togetherness thanks to the immense warmth that covered his earthly absence. He was with us though, in all our thoughts and hearts.

I’m still looking for the fast forward button until January 7. I’m learning to say yes and to say no and choose what I’m going to do next. I have no filters.

And now comes that infinity of light, of colour. In short, that time that some time ago, while I was meticulously preparingit, many expressed, «I do not like Christmas», «I hope it’s over soon” …, I enjoyed organizing the 24 socks hanging from end to end in the living room, «no touching! Just take the one of the day, they are all repeated and the same for both of you.”First shock of reality.”

Sometimes I feel like Mr. Scrooge from «A Christmas Carol», it makes me angry to see a simple bauble on the tree because it reminds me of those I have in a cardboard box with everyone’s name on them. And there is his name. 5 red balls with our names and 4 little wooden angels with the names of the 4 grandparents, those who have been sitting at my table on Christmas Day for 25 years. I always thought that one of those little angels would become just that, a little angel in our heaven, because that’s what we’ve been taught, a logical, strict and rational order. Not at all. Today we are here and tomorrow will be another day, that goes for you too who are reading this.

My inner self gets angry about the plans, the trips, the celebrations or the dreams, in short, everything that these days encompass. At the same time, I live day by day. I can’t take any more and I tell myself that there is a parallel life out there, parallel to my routine, that internal struggle that tells me what to do to take care of myself, to cope with this as I should, although I haven’t found the instruction book yet. I didn’t find it as a mother and even less for losing a child…

My thoughts are piling up, contradictory feelings and the desire to write, to get everything out that I carry inside me. But sometimes I feel that it is so much, so much… rage, pain, sorrow, sadness, anger. Anger with the life that has touched me, because we are all in the hype, all of us, and why me, I am afraid of losing my manners. Manners that I try to maintain for the memory of my son, out of respect for his way of being with zero conflict, he did not like to confront anyone, and that was another lesson in knowing how to be which I try to respect. I keep my rage latent, I contain that fire until the day I see those who drowned my lament in a world that I am forced to live in, that I do not want nor did I choose, judged. I will see one day how justice will come for everyone, and maybe not even that will be peace for me, maybe not; because after seeing what human beings are capable of doing, knowing that justice is the interpretation of the smartest, wisest, most qualified or knowledgeable of tricks to end up convincing a few others that they are right…after that, for me justice is to know who are the ones behind this totally unnecessarytragedy which did not come from an illness, an accident or something that had to be done. Let the parents, children, siblings and friends of those people who were there know what they did; there was no apology, no regret, no forgiveness for 4 long days in that hell of a hospital. Let that irreversible damage fall on their conscience.

It wasn’t my turn to have an empty chair at my table at Christmas or every day of my life, or every breakfast, or every dinner. It wasn’t my turn.

It was my turn to reluctantly pick up the clothes off the floor, to get angry because he didn’t take Max out when it was his turn, because he left the bathroom a mess or his room like a lion’s den, «now it’s my favourite cave», because he forgot to write down to buy the cereal on the list or his fantas de limón, for asking me for things at the last minute, because he fell asleep and didn’t make it to school on time, for playing in the early hours of the morning and waking me up. I wish I was angry, I wish I was bored of hearing my complaints about everything, «what a pain in the ass mum», blessed criticism.I’m no longer a pain in the ass to anyone, I don’t get angry anymore, even that part has been stolen from me and I want justice.

Because now the good ones have to go to the psychologist because of the bad things others do. And I have to think that there is another, better life for him, to convince myself that he is with me, that he would want this or that, that as long as I have him in my heart he will remain by my side…. and yes, I have to do all that because they forced me to.

Eight months ago today I was preparing to say my last goodbye to him in person, to carry him with me forever, engraved on my skin, my soul and my heart. Because he would never go anywhere else but in my heart.

And thanks to the pain I feel, I understand how immensely happy I was in that life, a full life where nothing was missing. Because my pain is irremediably proportional to the happiness that was installed in my life by having everything and sometimes not appreciating it. Although I was always grateful for my life, my family and the health that surrounded us all.

I don’t know if one day I will have the opportunity to feel my laughter full and happy again. In the meantime, I ask you: look around yourself my friend, look at your world, not what you lack but what you have in your life. Maybe you have it sitting next to you and you don’t realise that your life would be hell without it. So live, feel and love today and remember that it doesn’t depend on us what may happen tomorrow.

And Christmas is coming…