Like in a procession, praying litanies for your salvation. That’s how they kept us for 48 hours, from the shock of seeing you in a coma on a machine to making your death official. Brain death. I can’t get those 2 endless days of hope out of my mind, those who had faith prayed, those who believed in God prayed, and even those who never had any creed, everyone in some way, with their messages, tears and prayers implored for a resurgence, an awakening that it was just a simple scare.

How ridiculous we must have looked to the medical community who stood around with an air of concern and disbelief. That was their image, but the shadow of their thinking was clear, 30 minutes without oxygen to the brain… irreversible.

We all pleaded for his youth, strength and drive, as if he should be the one to climb out of the hole he had been pushed into. Casualty they called their mistake, after mistake, after mistake. Correcting that absurd and blatant damage was impossible.

Remember: 48 hours of waiting for a death already foretold.

I don’t understand human beings. More than one of them had children of Oscar’s age, possibly even knowing each other through athletics, what madness. And they were unable to show humanity, empathy or even professionalism. Cowardice was superior to the courage to face the reality of the mistake. The fear on their faces was clear, but it was fear for themselves. They had not lost their lives but they had lost their honour, the right to go forward in life, to show pride in their work.

We were there for 5 days until the machine was disconnected. We watched him die, caring for him, giving caresses and kisses, tears flooding that box. Bitter, unjust farewells, impossible to console but so necessary to go forward with strength.

At one time you were my guardian, the pillar of my life, the strength of the wind that made me move and today you will be the fortress that guides my actions.

Dani Bayona

How do you assimilate an immediate emptiness, which cannot be filled again, incapable and powerless, with no possibility of movement? «Come and say goodbye to your friend», that was the message to his friends, incredulous of what they would see there, powerless and weak. I remember it as if it were yesterday. Dozens of reddened eyes, faces with tireless tears and looks of bewilderment. The broken soul of a sister who asked for assistance and even in that they did not know how to manage their work efficiently. Absolute grief that I cannot comprehend.

Time passes and the moments of pain are transformed into love for Oscar. Inside me I isolate and do not forget the mistake that changed the lives of so many people. People who promised that their patient’s life would be the most precious thing, forgot, made mistakes and killed all hope. The light of many hearts was hidden behind a terrible storm. I cannot forgive that harm and we will not rest until they are where they belong, which is not in an operating theatre.

And so today we have commemorated the passing of my treasure. There could not have been more tokens of love next to the place where my life rests. Broken hearts, and at the same time hearts full of love that continue to love you, like so many messages of support for this struggle that does not rest, a prayer, a poem, a hug, a thought of you at all times.

May all this lead us to be better, without demagogy, but better in the NOW, better in each of the internal struggles we manage, hard and difficult, but all of them possible.

Oscar continues to be a legacy of passion, a passion for what he loved and an example of tenacity. Perhaps that is why he had to leave, for me too soon. And to show us that relativising and valuing is vital for our lives. «Until we meet again».

When my thoughts during those five days of bitterness give me respite, I will intensely relive your life, your 18 years of laughter, nonsense and anecdotes.

One year on the 29th we went home alone and one year on the 31st you would definitely never sleep at home again. Even that they did so badly, I won’t forgive or understand the concept of «preparing the family».

I miss you like the first day son, you make me miss you. I miss your breakfasts, the incessant typing of the computer, the cool snacks and a good movie always accompanied by your teddies; one now will always be with you, the other one is with your tata.

My soul is broken into a thousand pieces, rebuilding the cracks without hiding the marks is a matter of effort. I only believe in you, in the strength that you give me some days, because there are other days I cling to the selfishness of having you here, of living with you more days. Those are days only for me, a pain that accompanies the love for you. Everything will become love for you.

My writings are an outlet for my constant thoughts. The music you shared, the memories, your travel suitcase, therapy, talks with friends, hugs of complete love shared – all are vital to heal the wounds of the heart.

I write to heal. It helps me to express the pain. I carry so much love for you in my veins that I would be in a constant transfusion. The pain becomes words, because we have to continue with the life you left us, because you would be happy to move on, together as you liked. I discovered that you expressed yourself very well in writing, maybe it was something common to both of us. How lucky I was to have something in common with you besides our little eyes.

16:36 31.3.2023 «Today I begin without you».