Life As I Knew It.

There was a before and after: life as I knew it and experienced it until then was no longer. Everything changed one June evening with a hunch before going to bed, I felt something in the pit of my stomach but dismissed it and fell asleep. Hours later I would receive a phone call from Argentina that would change my world and, eventually, my understanding of everything. It would change my approach to life and my perception of the finity of human existence as well as its beauty, its frailty, its magnitude, its awesomeness, its mysteries, its depth...Everything I thought I knew until then, changed in a split second. The phone rang. I woke up. Day and night. That was the moment I said goodbye to life as I had known it. Life as a family of six, life with threee brothers. 

I remember my dear friend Stefania driving my brother Juan -living in France at the time- and me to Heathrow airport and just as we were parking outside its drop-off lane, we got a phone call that broke me to pieces and led me to cry uncontrollably. Juan was sitting in the back seat, I can't really remember how it went but all of a sudden he handed me the phone and I heard my dad saying something about donating organs. I couldn't believe it. I did not want to believe it. I clearly remember blocking what he was saying by my repetitive 'What? What? What?' in desbelief of what I was hearing. Time stopped, voices faded, for a minute I thought I was dreaming; it truly seemed unreal. I couldn't imagine a world without Lucio. Until seconds before that phone call, I had faith that everything was going to be okay, that he would recover, and that soon the 'Fantastic Four' would be reunited again. I never thought he would be gone just like that. I remember taking the suitcases off the trunk, me hugging Stefania thightly and her crying with me. She gave me an envelope and, after that, Juan and I went inside the airport. 

I just wanted to cry and I did. I cried, and cried; I couldn't stop. I remember Juan taking my face in his hands and reassuring me that everything would be okay. In that moment I felt I was a little girl and he was my oldest brother taking care of me, protecting me...The man at the airport desk politely asked if everything was okay and Juan told him what had happened -I guess he only disclosed that because I was so distressed that I couldn't prevent myself from crying irrepressibly. My body went into some kind of shock. I had no control over my emotions.

The fourteen-hour-long flight was a kind of blur but I do remember Juan being super protective and taking care of me. I was his little sis -even though I was 26 at the time. I remember being sick in the flight and having to be carried out the plane in a wheelchair. Upon arrival, I was administered an injection. Again, a murky blur. I remember Pame receiving us, eyes filled with tears and hugging us so tightly...Adalberto was there too, they were so supportive, they were with us. I honestly can't remember the drive from Buenos Aires to Olavarría. Not at all. 

I do remember being the five of us in the kitchen and mum reading the letter Lucio left. Seconds after she started, I couldn't control myself and started sobbing uncontrollably, shaking and walking to the laundry room; mum, with tears in her eyes, asking me to calm down and Juan after me, once again taking my face in his hands and telling me everything would be alright. Both times he found the way to calm me down. 

The funeral was surreal. There were so many people, some I knew, some I didn't. But I did appreciate all of them being there. He was there and so was his mum. I saw her first, we hugged and then she asked me if it was okay for him to see me; he wanted to see me. I did and we hugged and talked. I cannot remember much but I do remember being grateful that he was courageous and supportive enough to be there, to hug me in that moment. 

I remember Juan making four little marks on the coffin with a key and then all of us lifting it to carry it to the funeral car. I was trembling and my vision blurry because of the tears. Amidst the umbearable pain, I felt the love around. 

Days after the funeral, we were playing with Juan's paraglide in an open space. We knew we had to go out into nature and it was surprisingly sunny for a June day in Argentina. We were laughing because of how the paraglide was pulling whoever was trying it at the time. I think mum fell and, though it felt strange to laugh, it felt good. At points someone would be elevated into the air for seconds and we would celebrate that . We were together and that was all that mattered. Max was there too. He was a puppy then. He ran around and made us smile. Lucio was there too, I am sure of that. 

At the beginning my mind couldn't really make sense of what had happened. It was such an unexpected and painful life lesson. Never could we had imagined that Lucio had cancer and than he'd be gone overnight. For a very long time, life was hazy. Weeks become months and months became years. In a few weeks' time it will be six years since he left. 

We learn. We talk. We remember. We cry and we smile. We never forget. He is always there.