Divine finger killer finger

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Yesterday I received two news. Both at the same time. One shrugged my heart. I still have it shrunk. The other stole an immense smile. I still smile.

Yesterday a co-worker of about forty died. I left some children of the ages of mine. An unknown and cruel cancer that attacked his heart, sentenced him from the moment in which his diagnosis was known. Cardiologist by profession, what a coincidence more macabre.

Yesterday a friend of about forty and few, with whom I share lyrics and emotions, announced his hospital discharge after having an open heart surgery. He came home strong with his children, again, from the ages of mine.

The two shared a sick heart, the two shared age, both shared small children. The two were called the same.

Amazing.

I went to bed thinking about it. Suddenly my bed felt bigger and colder than ever, more silent and empty. And I was because the one who takes care of my heart, who renounces his dream, to watch over my own; the one who " combs my soul and entangles it " as the song says, was 400 kilometers away at a cardiology congress.

Again the heart!

I took to sleep. My daughter smelled the absence and slipped into my bed giving me the warmth I longed for.

This morning during breakfast my son asked me:

But mom, why did your partner die if he had small children?

I smiled at him while my eyes flooded with tears. I stroked his chest in an attempt to protect his innocent heart. I did not know how to answer him. His question was unfinished: Why did he die if he had young children to care for ? One of many orphan questions.

The divine finger that says yes, the killer finger that says no . I thought of one, I thought of another. You do, you do not ...

I took the children to school and as I was doing today, I went down to the beach. 8:30 in the morning and I find this spectacle of nature.

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I thought again of hearts, of lives united by the same name, in sick hearts, in innocent hearts, in hearts that care ... The music I heard sounded so loud in my headphones that I did not even hear my shy sighs. It was an old woman, early morning as befits an octogenarian, who approached, touched my shoulder and said:

Girl, are you okay?
I put my hand on her, feeling fragile and delicate but hardened in joys and sorrows and I said:

I'm fine. Excited ...

She smiled and we were both sitting on that bench watching that explosion of beauty. They separated us maybe more than 40 years but we were united by the same heart, yes, without a doubt. He got up slowly, picked up his cane and with the same childlike smile my little daughter said goodbye.

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I watched her go away and I wished with all my strength to reach her age with that same smile, with those same hands, with that compassion before some tears of others.

When I picked up the children from school, while we were eating in the kitchen, I told them:

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Children , promise me that you will never forget to live.
I told them this even knowing that they would not understand it, but I like to do it; Your answers are always surprising.

Mama man, that is not forgotten! If the heart makes pum-pum-pum we're still alive! - he answered with his overwhelming logic.
Certain love, I mean to LIVE TRUTH.
And what is it really to live? - asked my daughter curiously.
Really living is that even when you are older you are tired, stressed, busy and surrounded by many people, you must never forget to embrace as you embrace now, with your whole body , kiss as you kiss now, making a lot of noise , play as you play now, for fun. Do not forget to dream, to dream big and tall. Never cease to feel, to cry if you feel sorry, to laugh out loud if something makes you very funny, to think about others, to help, to collaborate, to get excited, to read as we read every night, to invent songs like We do now in the car, to share, to enjoy, to travel and to give thanks for having everything we have. That is to live for real.