
Cuando hablo de «mi vida», hablo de la vida de mi hija, de mi marido, de los cuatro abuelos, tíos, sobrinos, primos (una familia de sangre que le quiere, le adora, Todos a una. Y también de toda esa familia que se elige, nuestros amigos inseparables e incondicionales; de los amigos de Oscar y de sus «dragones».

Como muchos de vosotros, que ahora me leéis, yo leía noticias espeluznantes de sucesos, de trágicos momentos vividos por personas ajenas a mí, de otras ciudades y lo veía como parte de la vida, como parte de las cosas que ocurren. Y de repente formas parte de ese canal de sucesos, de locuras de historias

Remembering those 72 hours turns my stomach. I continue to think of it whilst I’m treating a wound that doesn’t heal. The following morning, we see our son exactly the same, in the same place, the same posture, everything remains the same, hour after hour… Of course, we aren’t lacking anything, if it wasn’t for

Oscar was a kids’ football coach at FC Sant Just. He discovered his passion for football much earlier when he was one of the fastest boys on the pitch, achieved by speed training at Sant Just Athletics Club. He absolutely flew with the ball and it was fantastic watching him play. This passion, added to

When I talk about «my life», I’m talking about the life of my daughter, my husband, the four grandparents, uncles and aunties, nephews and nieces, cousins (a family that loves him, adores him, united as one). And also, all that family that we choose, our inseparable and unconditional friends, Oscar’s friends and his «dragons». We

Like many of you who are now reading this blog, I have read horrifying news about events and about tragic moments experienced by people who were unknown to me, from other cities, and I saw it as part of life, as part of the things that happen. And suddenly you are part of that world.