Today I had the privilege of attending a deeply moving concert. David, or Expo as Óscar used to call him, gave us an afternoon filled with emotion and memories. At his first charity concert in support of childhood cancer research, he once again found a moment for Óscar. We are touched by the generosity, humility, and love with which this young man, so dearly loved by all who know him, gives of himself.

Óscar gave me the opportunity to meet Expo. The two of them started playing football together when they were very young, and I never imagined he would become such an important part of our boy’s memory.

With devoted parents whom I admire greatly, and surrounded by cherished friends, we enjoyed his performance, his laughter, and his improvisations – in short, a sincere, simple, and fun act of giving.

I must admit that as soon as I heard the first notes, my eyes filled with tears. As Expo himself knows so well, I feel that Óscar is there with him, just as he used to be at home, recording moments while he played the piano.

Expo says that Óscar gave him the family we choose for ourselves: friends who always have a heartfelt hug and a smile for us. In return, Expo gives all of us a little piece of his heart. Keeping the memory of his friend alive makes him truly remarkable.

As long as we remember him, Óscar will remain among us.

Watching him play the piano and sing Més enllà dels estels (Beyond the Stars) by Manu Guix gives me the strength to keep moving forward. His generosity and his remembrance of Óscar will always make us proud, and I am certain that Óscar, wherever he may be, will encourage him to go as far as he dreams.

I want to tell you

that we are okay.

You can rest easy.

That we still carry you

within us.

Fate was cruel.

“Life is only a little while” – that is what your song says, Expo. Thank you for giving us these moments. That is what life is about: beautiful moments. I loved the way you looked up at the sky as you let the final note fade away. “The boy” would have said thank you too.

We all face difficult moments in life. Sometimes I try to make sense of mine, even to find some comparable kind of pain… but I cannot. Living through this grief does not become easier simply because time passes. The dark days still arrive just the same, and sometimes they hurt even more because you cannot understand how you can sink so deeply again. It is supposed to be over by now, isn’t it? But it is not. The ebb and flow never stops. You never know how you will wake up or how the day will unfold.

The flowers that mark his resting place, the candles lit in his memory, connect us to him just as much as saying “good morning” to his photograph or receiving a loving embrace from someone dear. Everything beautiful keeps us connected.

To live on while carrying him with us is our destiny – our guiding star, our fortune, our fate. We may call it whatever we wish.

There are beautiful days when his memory brings us peace and serenity. But sometimes “missing him” becomes something else entirely. Those words fill with sorrow and longing. Watching his videos or hearing his voice brings tears to my eyes, and I have learned that it will always be this way.

At times it almost feels unreal, like a dream that I was lucky enough to have him, to hold him close, and to love him so much.

I have love left over – the love I was not allowed to keep giving him. That love belonged only to him. Perhaps one day I will learn how to share it. Perhaps that, too, will be a way of honouring his memory.