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A weekend necessary but uncomfortable. A family trip. New roads and new route, as usual ... but not quite. New feelings to mingle with old feelings. At the boundary between memory and the memories, between what was and what could be. "Driven by love or duty? Perhaps in the background is partly the same? Impossible to know. Rationally inexplicable force us there. There, a small town that is also part me, despite many years ago not to visit. Old
known to many for me and have no name, and his face is a dim memory. The feelings are mixed and inwardly feel something strong and indefinable. He also reunited with an old friend who shows remain so despite the passing years. Maybe things were more than I initially thought ... New

farewell funeral Mass, more hard and difficult than the last. Here are the ashes of my mother. In the common place of the ancestors of the family. His farewell is finally reunited with the earth in every sense of the word and with his family. As the cycle of life. Like everything. As ourselves.

We continue the cycle of life. Payo de Ojeda, July 17, 2010.

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A until then ... Meetings

Hi all,

As you may already know, my mother finally died and now rests in peace. This blog post is a letter for her, in her memory. I know I read it.


Hi Mom:

long since left us. At least, that is often thought when you were already able to recognize so many people, or to speak rationally, or when you were not capable of so many things that a person is supposed to be done.

And for someone whose life has always been a hectic renouncement for his own and making the impossible possible and that all were well, that seemed to be no longer. How many times have we said and thought, "is not it!"

Your life was not easy or simple. Since you take care of your little siblings, and learned much, much about love and responsibility. Youth troubles you marked, and that fatalistic and always disappointed you had this. "Happiness does not exist," he told me often. You just flattered that they were yours all well, and do not want for anything ever. Maybe that's why the disease came. Maybe that's why you decided to go little by little, when you consider that "the work was done. " But maybe you kept

actually working, fulfilling your last request. Perhaps we were taught the last lesson. Maybe you had to prove that the essence of the person is something that is not in their intellectual, rational, or psychomotor. I was discovering small details of everyday life. For example, when, despite not recognize people, you knew who they were "the home" who were important. Or when you wanted us to sit with you, to do or say anything. Or when, while unable to strike up a conversation with fluency and clarity, showing that deep satisfaction that is not seen but perceived if only you or you cogiéramos abrazásemos hand in hand with feelings of love. Because you knew that feeling very well and always with you.

That is perhaps not really left us when so we thought. Even now perhaps not leave us completely. Still there, with that latent presence, invites us to see beyond reason, and remember that "what is essential is invisible to the eye."

Thanks mom, so job well done during your difficult time on earth. Thanks also for having been and being that so much of our lives. We feel comfort with that ability that reason can never understand that you are well and in peace. In addition to peace because you know that the tears shed on these days are not motivated by sadness, or bitterness, nor despair, but they are tears of emotion, of which spilled when suddenly we have to say someone we care "to the next."

So, on behalf of the entire family, thank you and farewell, for always remain with us.