Our filaments webbed intertwined, forever binding us in this life and the next he and I, my primo and me. We grew up together and though in adulthood we were apart, our memories remain- watching our mothers make our halloween costumes, easter egg hunts, empanadas and Christmas laughter. All of it remains and it now haunts me. Now that he is gone.
Because how could that be? How could that primohermano I ran around with as a child no longer be on this earth in physical form? It’s like there is a void out there. I didn’t see him often in our adulthood, but now I feel this ever-present painful void–out there, and in me, my being. I am missing celulas, I am missing matter, energy that had always just been a part of me. My primohermano who experienced his childhood with me, our DNA and memories forever binding us though we grew apart, is no longer a part of me in physical form, and it hurts in a way that can’t adequately be described.
This is what it feels like when we lose a loved one, our lives forever altered, our hearts irreparably injured, but somehow this feels different. When it’s a brother, someone who shares your childhood laughter, who you assumed would walk on this earth your entire life, when it’s your child, it must just be different. Even when apart, they are always a part of you, and there is always a tomorrow when you might see them share another memory, but now that will never be.
It’s pain, sadness that just is… that sits here in me hovering over the void, where his celulas, his energy on this earth once were. Now it’s just sadness, pain, a dark cloud above that void, above that part of me that just knew he was out there living his life walking around with our memories, our shared laughter, shared experiences, shared DNA, shared ancestors, those filaments that bind. Now it’s painfully empty, missing, a part of me is missing.
But his laughing face, his voice, those times I cared for him because I was the oldest, the memory of that laughing face, of it all, is imprinted the only place it can live now, in memory, and I am reminded that our filaments remain–together, binding us together always, in this life and the next.
estoy desgranando 