And so that I accompanied him here, in the morgue in the neighboring town where most of Sarah's family has arrived from the north of the country.
visitors in a morgue are of different species, all very interesting. There are those who cry nonstop. Inconsolable crying, sad and helpless, maybe even cry for us, for all the dead and the living. And there are those who are very serious. These do not cry. Their faces are as rigid and impenetrable Mascaret. There are those who pass by, friends who have heard from other neighbors. These look like they are surprised and maybe even happy to be alive. Always end up talking about other things, the latest car or the last game.
I am a neighbor, Sarah did not know much, just seeing her from time to time when he came to bring food scraps to the chickens of Amparo. An elegant woman, very pleasant, always smiling. He died this afternoon of a heart attack. So, suddenly. No more. As if a thunderbolt had fallen on him.
The children have all come in the same car, pale, and half stunned. Upon entering the living room sobs were heard singing reminded me of the mysterious whale. Sobs and waves up and down, a clearer, deeper ones. You can not be anything in front of a whale sob, a sob of a being who does not understand what is happening, a wail that rises in the air as if asking for a response. Behind the glass lies the body of Sarah, in a dark wooden box. This, to me, is the answer.
Another neighbor was presented with a box full of cups and a thermos of coffee. His dark hands to work the land have toyed with the head of one of the daughters.
Mom! other daughter has screamed. The men, outside, have looked in silence close.
Nobody understands death, much as we know it is the only reason for living. By many religions and many improbable stories, no one understands, no one accepts it, nobody wants. Death comes, goes through life, broken lives, choking spaces ones apart.
In lapse of an hour has gone Sarah says the mayor, his brother.
In the living room have infiltrated other neighbors, including two elderly women. I look askance. I do not know why, but the elders know how to behave with grace when death presents itself. It is a matter of experience, I say. My two neighbors are sitting and are present. Are. They are like two pillars still, strong, impressive. Just look at me with a strange calm and blissful. Sarah's husband, sitting in front of them, puzzled stare into her hands.
Later I return to town with Agnese and Santiago. Accompanied them to the door his house, very close to mine. We wish good night and God willing we will see tomorrow. Before going into my house a deep breath. And I'll stay a while looking at the stars above, very bright.
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