The best of me

When I was a little girl, almost a teenager, I was disintegrated into thousands of pieces by a big loss. Throughout life in an attempt to protect me, I tried to heal myself. It was like finding jigsaw pieces which were impossible to fit anywhere, something like a very rare and precious porcelain vase that breaks. Inevitably some little splinter would remain invisible cast in the wind of time. Some small parts were never found, so I realized that I had survived but might be missing something really essential to me. I never knew if the best of me stayed with me or got lost in some fragment of the time that had passed. It is comfortable knowing that we are beings in eternal and permanent formation, that we are getting traces from other people who form us and leave their mark on us in some way.

At that time I could only see the visible, so in order not to get lost at all, I used to repeat my name, my parents names and my address in a silent voice, anyway all these things that apparently make up a person and that I was afraid to forget. I sought and clung to my earthly reference, I couldn’t realize yet that I was already a unique and formed person, that it didn’t matter the name, the address or the age. The rain could not erase my footprints and the wind could not take my memories. The broken links were never really broken, for there was a thread of life between them that could not never be disintegrated. However I didn’t know there was another side of us.

I was already whole, what I needed was to just loose my fear of opening my hands and blowing my soul high on a cliff, letting it fly free in its longing for space. The goodbye hugs would always return into reunion hugs. I just needed to close my eyes to see that I was who I was, I just needed to ask courageously: who am I? Where do I come from? To where do I go? Then, without fear of forgetting the earthly attachments, a divine and eternal trail would immediately open ahead of my feet and I would move on confidently, without caring about the ephemeral.

However I thrilled, longing for myself, in life searching for the lost fragments and without my realizing, it was in this loss that remained, at last, the best of me.