A year ago, on this very day, as pilgrims among the thousands that filled the Sanctuary of Fátima, not even in our wildest dreams – or rather nightmares – could we have imagined a day like today. The empty sanctuary Last year, like the year before, May 13 was an explosion of faith, of light. Last year it was a warm, sunny day, more like Summer than Spring. We talked, we prayed, we cried, we thanked, we begged, we …
Author: Teresa Vale
She slowly wakes up, letting herself linger in that wonderful dimension between worlds where everything is allowed and dreams of the past and future are real for as long as it lasts. Then, as she gains conscience, faces and places fade away and she opens her eyes to the small rays of sunshine that peep through the blinds. By her side, on her huge double bed, there is no one, but she does not feel lonely. She feels …
A May Saturday. Warm, like a summer day. It’s dusk now. I stay a long time at my window, feeling the early evening fresh breeze and watching the sun set over the sea. I never tire of this view; every day the colours are different. There are days with silver-blue and orange, others with deep-blue and pink, and then there are those days when you can see silver in the sky and the sea, only in different shades. …
I go for my late afternoon walk. I stand over the beach and look at the sea, inhaling its smell. It’s not too strong, here, as in other places by the sea, but it’s unmistakeable. I just stay there, filling myself with so many sensations – the light blue of the sky, the still bright light of the sun, already low on the horizon but still warm; the sea breeze on my face and my hair. The sensation of …
There are moments that linger in your mind for a long, long time, images so strong that time does not erase them. Two girls sitting outside on a terrace on a late April afternoon that felt like summer, eating an ice cream and celebrating a birthday. I often remember that day. I wonder why I consider it so special. After all, it was not a great party or celebration – just the two of us sitting together as we …
It’s driving me crazy. De-contamination, I mean. All the disinfection procedures we have to put in place so that we may be slightly – only slightly – reassured we have not brought the virus into our home. It began with washing my hands every two minutes. Every time I touch anything, I wash them. After two or three days of this regime, I noticed some small cracks appearing. My hands were sore, red, dehydrated. I even had …
Another glorious Saturday. The bluest of skies in the darkest of times. Or is it? It seems we have grown used to this new routine. It’s called acceptance. In the beginning, all we talked about was “when we return to normal”; now, we have realised that what used to be normal will probably take a long time to come back, so we wait, resigned, for the crumbs of freedom that are expected to start making an appearance, come May. …
A week has passed. Rain or shine, days are very much the same, and it’s a good sign. We are home, we work, we sleep, we eat, we see our friends during WhatsApp video calls… we should feel privileged to be home, healthy, comparatively safe, while other people are fighting this battle for us, in hospitals, risking their lives a million times so that one day this nightmare may pass. I cannot help picturing my cousin, the doctor, who sent …
I haven’t written this diary for a few days. On the one hand, because I end up repeating myself. Routines are installed, I get up, I eat, I write, I do some exercise at home, I eat again, I write, I eventually go for a walk if the weather permits; which is not the case today, as it’s stormy outside. Once a week I go to the grocery store to buy fruit and vegetables. The boys keep coming …
Once I said, half-joking, that you reminded me of Heathcliff, the dark but loving, passionate but sombre, vulnerable yet aggressive, lover of Wuthering Heights. I don’t think you’ve read the book, for the only word you retained was “gipsy”; you laughed and said I was not the first person who called you that, because of your raven black hair, that sometimes had a wild look about it; your dark eyes, aquiline nose, tall figure and reserved, sometimes even unpleasant, manner. …
