Life's most faithful companion

I remember the first time I met her, that stranger without a face, apathetic and cruel. Cruel because she was selfish and she took that which was once part of my life. Cruel because, even though I never invited her, she’d keep showing up in my life to take away those I loved the most. Cruel because, one day, hers would be the last countenance I’d ever lay eyes on.

I must’ve been no more than five years old and, though it’s been a long time since, I haven’t forgotten it; as if it was recorded on a hidden tape in some obscure corner of my memory and, whenever I want to, I can rewind and relive each detail as if it was the first time.

I moved closer towards my dad slowly, furtive tears wandering down my cheeks. They fled quickly, blurring my vision, softening his figure. There he was, watching me carefully, sitting on his favorite armchair. His glasses rested firmly on his sharp nose, his dark eyes were examining me lovingly interest through their lenses. The newspaper he’d been reading was resting over his lap, his legs crossed, one over the other in a relaxed position.

On my hand lay the stretched out and inanimate body of my little pet, a small white mouse that I had found one day while playing in the garden, and that my parents hadn’t been able to deny me the pleasure of keeping when they saw in my eyes the excitement of looking after a being more fragile than myself.

“What’s wrong, Daniel? ¿What have you got there?” He asked interested and worried. I walked towards him and, without words, I showed him the small creature that rested in my hands. My father removed his glasses, placing them on the small table by the armchair. He grabbed the newspaper, folded it, and placed it next to the glasses. He observed carefully the little rodent and, with his right hand, he invited me to sit on his lap.

I was sobbing, incapable of uttering a single word. He looked at me with tenderness and, without saying anything, he held me in his arms until the tears started disappearing and the sobs were no more than a quiet moan. My eyelids felt heavy and even though I didn’t want to stop looking at my little animal, with the slim hope that it would open its small eyes to start moving its front legs with the same emphasis of every other day, the energy that my cries had absorbed turned into drowsiness… which in turn became a fleeting darkness that wouldn’t bring any new adventures. When I woke up, my dad was sitting next to me. He had taken me to my bed and had waited patiently for me to open my eyes.

In a small box on my night table, he had placed Momo, my pet. It rested peacefully on a small green cloth. Next to the box, there was a note, though I didn’t know what was written on it.

“Come, Daniel, let’s say goodbye to your little friend.”

I understood then that he wouldn’t open his small, shiny little eyes again, that he wouldn’t play with the wheel I had put in his cage again, that he wouldn’t chew his food again, and then I started crying once more.

My dad picked up delicately the small box and the small note and waited for me by the doorway. When I arrived by his side, he extended his arm and opened the palm of his hand, inviting mine to hold his.

He guided me to the garden, next to a small hole that, if my memory served me right, hadn’t been there a few hours earlier. My dad had dug it for the whole purpose of burying the little creature that rested peacefully on a small piece of cloth. So delicate, so motionless. I found it incredible to believe that the previous night he had run in his cage and eaten his piece of cheese. I had given him what would be his last kiss on his hairy and soft little head. This unknown feeling was so abstract! I felt a void inside of me… it seemed to come from the left side of my chest. My heart beat fast and I couldn’t understand why. I had never felt such emptiness before, which took hold of my sound mind and filled it with memories from my defunct little friend. I remembered his shiny little eyes and his joy (or what I interpreted as such) when I fed him, I remembered the day I found him, running away from the cat, his little heart beating quickly, a little lump clashing against my infant's fingers through his chest.

Now I was looking at him and he looked like a different creature… it couldn’t be Momo. Momo would come back any minute, with his games and his little groans characteristic of a small rodent.

Lost in my thoughts, in my sobs, and in the sorrow that kept on intensifying with each tear, I heard my dad’s words as if he was speaking through a radio; far away and unreal.

—Daniel, do you hear me?— He said with tenderness and patience.

I nodded slowly, as if some invisible hands were moving my head automatically, with precision.

—Are you ready to say goodbye?

—Y… ye… yes, dad… I think so,— although I didn’t really know what he meant or how I was supposed to say goodbye.

My dad took the note that had been sitting next to the little box out of his pocket. It was wrinkled and it looked like he had written something on it; although I wasn’t paying much attention since I was looking at the floor, at the tip of my shoes, expecting that when I looked up again, Momo would be alive once more.

Over twenty years —and many encounters with life’s damn sister— have gone by since that day. Today my tears are not running for my first pet. No, it’s your casket, dad, that the earth is cautiously swallowing, burying your body for eternity.

My right hand, deep within my pocket, squeezes within its fist that note that you wrote such a long time ago for Momo (or was it for me?) with such love and eloquence.

My mind is flooding with sweet memories, and even violent ones. I remember our arguments when I wasn’t more than an adolescent who dreamed of owning the moon and taking the world by storm. No more than a young man that couldn’t distinguish his ass from his face. A know-it-all, as Emma used to call me, remember? Emma, who is now crying next to me; her eyes red and swollen, her face wet, covered in tears. That sister who endured so much throughout our adolescence, who called me all kinds of names, from booger face to ass wit… to loyal friend. She, who taught me to be a better person and who, like you, polished me so that I could become the man that I am today. And now she’s next to me, and neither my hugs nor my love can dissolve the pain that overwhelms her. I feel so impotent! But I’m not ashamed to be crying and for others to find tears sliding down my cheeks. You taught me that a man is never ashamed to show his feelings.

How I hate you! How dare you leave us like this?! I feel like an invisible hand is ripping my insides and the knot that I felt that day that my little rodent stopped being… that knot is now even deeper, even more insufferable. I can barely breathe, I can barely think without going insane. I feel as if a part of me evaporated the moment that they told me that… that… well, that you left us and, instead, there’s nothing but a vacuous world filled with uncertainty.

How can the world keep turning after this? I know it does… but death captures poor souls unexpectedly (sometimes even those who see it coming) and, even so, the world keeps on turning, the sun keeps shining, the clouds keep dancing free and agile in the sky… everything continues as if, let's be honest, it didn’t matter.

However… I, Emma, mom… we’ll continue with the emptiness and our lives will never be the same, because you are no longer here.

But, you know what? It comforts me to know that, because I had you in my life, it was better for it. My sadness was yours, my joy, yours, my uncertainties died with your words and your advice, and even my doubts found a resolution anytime that you, sitting on your favorite armchair, were willing to listen to me. You would never say anything, you’d let me infer a solution on my own and come to a conclusion by myself, even when you knew I would probably crash with my decision… That was your magic, you trusted me enough to know that I’d get up again and, with my head high and my gaze staring directly ahead, I’d eventually make the right choice. How I miss you!

Dad, today I won’t say goodbye, because you haven’t left. You will always be with me, in my heart. Your voice will guide me in my subconscious and will cheer me up when everything looks like a field covered with a blanket of desperation, fear, and darkness.

You will be my North Star and our memories together (the good ones and the bad ones) will be with me until my mind betrays me.

Dad, today I want to give you back that first feeling of peace that I knew when you read that note for Momo.

Dad, today I thank you.

Because we don’t celebrate the departure of a loved one, but the memories that they allowed us to share with them.

“I know I won’t see you again and I don’t know how to feel.

I know that what I feel now is sadness, sorrow, and tremendous pain.

You are no longer here

You have left

You have left me alone

And everything lacks meaning.

I can’t feel my hands,

nor my feet on the ground.

An infinite distance

is opening between my head and Earth.

I feel nauseous,

beaten, and abandoned.

Why did you leave?

I wasn’t ready, there wasn’t a goodbye.

Everything ends with this vacuum

that swallows me without mercy.

I stop for a moment,

and reconsider

I’m wrong,

Not everything is lost…

I still have our shared moments

nurtured by the memories

and all the times we experienced together.

Hold on while I think and look

towards a past pregnant

of images of our lives.

Hold one while I explore and find

your loving eyes and a divine feeling,

because love has no borders

and although I won’t enjoy your presence anymore

the bond that united us

will always be alive.”

As I utter the last words, I feel a tear jumping towards the infinity from my jaw, the little paper trembles in my hands. No one else but you and I know its origin and what is really written on it and why. I didn’t want to steal your words and, I admit, I had to edit it a bit so that it would fit you better, and not the little rodent that, in another life, was my best friend.

How I miss you! I still find it unreal that I won’t be able to hug you again, or that I won’t be able to go to a coffee shop and talk about politics, sports, or women.

God, dad… why?!

*******

A few months have passed since your funeral took place and, even though I keep missing you, I know that life goes on and that you would’ve liked to see me ready to go on, to move forward despite the sorrow and your absence.

When nostalgia invades, I decide to go back to those pictures that were frozen in time of our moments together. But I hardly cry anymore. On the contrary, a smile dances on my face, because I think of all those memories that keep me close to you and remind me that, as long as I keep moving forward, you will never cease to exist.

“Dad… I love you,” I whisper while I put our pictures away.

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Dedicated to all of those who have lost a loved one.

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