The bride's bouquet I know that post back with a very sad and sentimental (if you are low in spirits, do not follow reading.) But I was stuck in my throat and I do not write anything else out. Guess I needed to continue to release more. Sorry for the sadness.
- Misia, what will you do with the industry? - I asked a guest to my wedding, looking with greedy eyes - Are you going to throw?
- The industry already has owner - and smiled. But I think I got a very sad smile.
For my bouquet was owner and a history behind a little sad. Long ago, some fifteen years ago, I made a promise to someone, which materialized in this field.
The day I turned seventeen years I came to Madrid to study COU and the race. The first two years I lived in my grandparents house. The first year was tough: I had to get used to a new city, a new high school and college, get used to being separated from my parents, brother and my friends and also make new friends (which was a triumph because I was very shy). That year was hard, too, because I checked and the "great" friends that I left in Palma were diluted and promises to write and forgot to keep in touch with the passing of the weeks (todas. .. nooo, do you, Quelites?). That year I felt very alone.
best of that year he was living with my grandparents. Maybe it was a rare breed of seventeen, but I liked being with them and it was difficult to live. Since childhood we spent together for long periods in Palma and Madrid and I adored. Not knowing virtually no one in Madrid, spent much time at home with them. That year I spoke for hours with my grandmother E. She was an amazing woman, one of the best people I've met: strong, noble, cheerful, loving. The more knew more admired and loved most like her.
We laughed a lot together and we were establishing some ways: we saw the soap after eating, I was taught to cook and evenings together listening to the radio while I was reading and she was sewing or crocheting. Because during this year and next, my grandmother was making me the outfit: towels with crocheted lace, a quilt, some wipes ... It was great with the seam (it was his profession of girl) and had wonderful hands. One day, while she was sewing and I vagueaba on the couch, we were watching on TV wedding of the Infanta Elena. I do not remember whether the princess was happy to give the bouquet to the Virgin or grandmother, but mine was quiet and said:
- daughter, how lovely, who remembers her grandmother on her wedding day and it takes flowers.
I stayed quiet and the few minutes I said
- Grandma, if ever I get married, my bouquet will be for you.
And there was that. I do not know if she would remember that, because they mention him again, but I stuck with me.
The following year he was traveling to be equal to the first but with a twist: my first year at University! That was the novelty expected, but there was a really unexpected: the lung cancer came into my grandmother and changed everything. Upset our routines and, where last year he had talks in the kitchen, nap on the sofa or cinquillo games in the evenings, this year there were only hospital admissions, radiotherapy, ambulances and horrible symptoms. And much pain. The worst were the night. My grandmother got up, veiled by that horrible cough, and sat in a chair in the living room. I heard coughing from the room, lying in bed. And so we spent the night awake, she shattered lungs and I with a heavy heart.
In the beginning of my second year of college after a year or so of pain and evil life, my grandmother died. I started to live alone and continued my life. But much more alone.
So my bridal bouquet was owner. Présentée always had that conversation. I chose white roses, which we liked them both. And I remembered it every time I looked at the field, so it was present in some form in my wedding.
The day after the wedding, Sunday, my husband and I went back (sounds bizarre) Rainy City without going home and we passed the cemetery where my grandmother is buried. We arrived just an hour before they closed. When we asked the security guard where we could find an information board or someone you attend:
- Sorry, today is Sunday. No report until tomorrow.
- But there is a panel by date of burial or anything?
- Nah, it's all messy. As people are buried, was dug up, put the streets fried ... If there is no street number and area, forget it. It is a maze. Come to taste, but close to fifty minutes.
I dropped the heart sink. The next day we left the trip early and could not go. I found myself at this cemetery, immense no idea where my grandmother was buried, with the bridal bouquet in his hand and surrounded by thousands of graves spread over vast feis streets and blocks. He had not been there and although I remember isolated details, did not know specifically where was the tomb. I called my mother, my uncle, my aunt and everyone he could remember concrete data. Nothing, all references were aimed at home, miles away from where they were.
was impossible to find, but we made an attempt. Accompanied by my Anomalous, I was going through an endless succession of headstones, looking for a date and a name among thousands. I was desperate and I ended up running with my bouquet in hand in this sad scenario, while the tears fell and I could barely read the names on the graves. Yes, I know: a pathetic scene . And while flagellating themselves mentally, how could I not go before you locate the grave again! How he could be letting down my grandmother that way!
on fifty minutes to finish and had to leave the cemetery, even with the field, without having fulfilled my promise and full of sorrow and remorse. My father called me to tell me not to worry, that they took the field ... but it was not the same. To I was not the same.
I tried to comfort me: tell me that this tomb there is only a few bones and some rotten wood that my grandmother is not that. My parents took the field and ended up fulfilling my promise. That total, the branch did not gave it to anyone and I booked it for her. But ... when I think it gives me a lump in my throat that I was not going even with all the arguments in the world.
