Without knowing why, until now I had always refused to enter into a morgue. In fact, the occasions when I was asked over the years, there have been many, because, in the present existence, I have been spared premature separation from family members or people very close. But really, when it was the turn of my grandmothers remember I preferred to leave alive. See a "dead" I felt that somehow I would not have endured, and I followed my instinct. Ironically, the person who had most insisted that I go to "greet" his grandmother ("I saw how beautiful and serene, it seems to be asleep ...") was my aunt Angela. My dear aunt Angela. At that time it was a bit 'resent my refusal. The fact is that today in the funeral home she was there. And the fact is that I thought "I start hails to be, I can do it, I can no longer hide behind the impressionability, Elena force, there are also kids, take courage and go. " I also thought "I've seen until a few hours before he died on a hospital bed, I held the hand that now just breathe, can not be much different. And then there's the whole family, how can I fail? "
And so I entered. And within three seconds I get it. A lot of things. But in essence I understood why there had never wanted to go. Squalor, compassion, absurdity: I rushed on him all together, entwined in a wave of pain that almost makes me fall to the ground. Difficult to untangle the skein of thoughts and feelings, the most powerful, however, was clearly to be seen, for the first time, the box. My aunt was no longer there, it was obvious. Not only because his soul he was already suspended from who knows where to look. But even his body was no longer his body ... the legs were, but they were not his legs, there were hands, but not his hands. If they had told me that they had completely cleared from all organs would not have found anything strange ... because that was a cardboard shape, not my aunt Angela. I have seen the gulf between a person dying from a dead person. The container of the soul when the soul leaves. And I did not like it. Worse, it was a horrible thing. Even the horrible details: feet tied a tourniquet to keep them together, his chin supported by a prop, the corpse of her lying on a metal cart of the coldest December night when he decided to leave.
I left after a few minutes without even closer. I have welcomed yesterday, when it was still there, and certainly knew I was there near me even though he could not say. I left with a question that reverberated inside me and which concerned the strange customs of humans ... so why do this? Why gather around an empty box? It 's like if a person undress and to go away and we rimanessimo there to watch the clothes left on the ground ... In addition, see the body, which hosted a loved one so changed, emptied and unrecognizable, is a terrible agony for our human side . A pro who undergo such torture? And who of us would like to show your loved ones in those conditions?
Dear Aunt, about so many things we have not been agreed, it was impossible to even think about a lot of face. Yet there was never a moment in which mutual love has been called into question. I would be unable to write all the individual memories I have of you, and us together, so do not even try. It would be also unnecessary to say that for the first time I try on my skin in this type of posting is what is more frightening than not having the opportunity to give a hug or say a word. All of these things - as well as the good that I want you - now you know better than the first, better than I could ever tell.
So how do you know that you do not die, but simply passes behind the glass ... If you give me some sign sometimes, aunt, or maybe give me a hug, which at this time I would need so much, knocked hard, because I am still in box, not free like you, and certainly, although I am committed, I hardly hear you.
