Today is your 17th birthday. It’s the first day of your little life that I can’t spend with you.
Time stands still, the soul speaks, and truth envelops man in light...
For 16 years, I got to spend almost every day with you. I have been present in your life. Even before you were conceived, I had a clear and strong desire to love you.
I wanted you to be born, to exist in this reality. If I could take care of you and protect you. If I could help you have a little life, help you grow up. If I could give you all my knowledge and be with all the love in my heart. Always.
I wanted to. Just like I wanted your brother. I tried to help you be good brothers.
I was at the antenatal care, I still have the ultrasound scans. Then I got to see you and hold you in my arms for the first time in the world. I even chose your name for you.
Remember the starlit, cold nights when you were crampy and we’d walk outside covered in blankets to relieve your seizures? We’d hug and talk until your little body and soul calmed down. I will never forget your little face in the moonlight!
The moonlight brings back many beautiful memories of you. For example, one night you were playing the shadow violin on your knees on your bed. And you see! What a great violinist you turned out to be!
Or the time we watched the falling stars with your brother in the yard at Mami’s…
I was afraid that that little headache might never go away. But you’ve gone artist-biking with it! You were grumbling about how you were always taking advantage of that other girl at practice and races. But I saw the hero in you! I admired you. And that headache disappeared.
And remember the big walnut tree? Maybe that’s when I made you believe you could do anything! And you see? You really can do anything! I’m proud of you. I’m so proud of you.
And do you remember the lace bush? You know, the one you ran your bike into because you couldn’t stop! Maybe that’s where we both understood that there are no wounds and injuries that can’t be healed. And we learned to laugh about it all. You’ve done better since.
When I showed you my first drawing techniques, my aim was to free you from the somewhat rigid directions I had taught you at school. To teach you to express yourself freely. Little did we know at the time that this would be your path to recovery. You learned to draw your pain out of yourself. And what a natural you are!
I have always tried to strengthen your spirit. But unfortunately, mine has too often proved weak. Please forgive me.
The first time life crashed down on us, I tried to make up for everything that was lost and surrounded us like a gaping void. To harmonize the relationship you had with your dear brother. To play all the roles that are important in a child’s life.
It is difficult for man to understand that what happens to him is of his own making. That he came here to experience what he is going through. Especially when the loss of your child hurts so much…
It’s harder to accept that this is for us. That this is now an opportunity to put right all that is worth putting right, and can be put right.
Remember the way you stood in front of me last August?
– Dad! You do the most for us when you put your life in order. When you become stronger. Because we’ll be okay when you’re okay.
A mirror that only you could hold up to me…
Well, I’ve made a few more mistakes since then. Not small ones. But as we know, there are no mistakes. Just choices. Always to the best of our knowledge and intentions at the time.
And we can learn from them. Our experiences and our experiences can lead to our understandings. And if we can understand why things happen, then we just need to integrate that knowledge into our lives.
Remember? In 2023, in Alenquerque, you asked: Dad! Does everything always happen for a reason?
Yes, my girl! Everything always happens for a reason.
Thank you for being you! Thank you for teaching me, my little ally! And maybe it’s not just for this birthday that I give the most by getting my life in order.
Although the greatest gift for me will be to hug you again. You’re not just a memory, you’re a compass.
I didn’t just give you life – you gave me life.
Thank you for these memories! Thank you for giving me these memories!
I want you to see that whatever you’ve done in your life, you’ve proved to be very talented at it. Whether it’s riding an artist’s bike, playing the violin, drawing, whatever! I am proud of you, my darling!
I love you. And from the bottom of my heart I wish you a very happy birthday!
Thank you for letting me be your father!
I can’t help but think of the lines of the Pyramid band’s timeless song, Gifts:
Gift from
It was winter, it was snowing and the holidays were coming.
I was thinking what I could give you,
what only I could give you,
what you know
is really me.
All my riches, sounds and words,
some thoughts spoken by them.
I have told you one thing,
that if you believe it to be true,
tell it to everyone.
Wish the word an open road,
and the song a clear voice.
Wish to always love you,
as you wish to be loved.
I only sing about what I believe to be true,
and it's only for you if you believe it too.
You live like I do.
You dream like I do.
At least I want to.
