Stories and News No. 880
Last year there were found the remains of 66 years old Geraldine Largay, who had been reported missing in July of 2013 after leaving the Appalachian Trail during her walk.
Details revealed only recently, the woman, aware of going to die has left the following message: "When you find my body, please call my husband George and my daughter Kerry. It will be the greatest kindness for them to know that I am dead where you found me — no matter how many years from now."
Before surrendering, Geraldine has survived twenty-six days...
What's left of me.
What's left of me in twenty-six fragments.
One, the first time, all the first times, each first time that we have lived together, convinced that the miracle would be repeated again. Rarely it goes really like that, but we can certainly not complain of this.
Two, the steps I did, all the steps that I did, but only small ones, respectful for the time and the persons involved, as in the room where my daughter faced the first essay in school.
Three, when I was angry with you, my husband, all the times that I was angry with you and we had no way to turn aversion into its opposite. Well, I do now, now it's up to you.
Four, the trips we did, my loves, all the trips we did and we never went back because there was nothing to return to.
Five, the strength that I stole from you, all the strength that I secretly stole from you, I swear that I have not wasted a gram.
Six, the person that I forgot, all the people I wanted to forget, I am sorry just now, despite being late.
Seven, the tears that I have hidden, all the tears I hid are free, now, because there is nothing to be ashamed of when it receives all the weight that really deserves.
Eight, the hands I shook, all hands that I made no eye contact with life behind them, only now I see and understand.
Nine, the air I did not breathe, all the air that I have not breathed that day because I was not there, though I should be.
Ten, the ground which I rest on, all the ground which I could rest on, only now resonates identical and made of the same earth.
Eleven, the kiss that you wanted to give me, companion that I leave, give me all the kisses you wanted, do it now and I will stand still forever.
Twelve, the music that made me dance, all the music that made me dance, inside, but I remained still for modesty.
Thirteen, the images that have made me move, all the images that moved me, inside, but I remained silent for custom.
Fourteen, the scenes that made me indignant, all the scenes that made me indignant, and I raised my voice, the sky or whoever bless them one by one.
Fifteen, the night we made love, every night we made love only with your eyes, my beloved one, I will bring with me.
Sixteen, the day when our daughter smiled, as often as she smiled when in fact I was sad, or just tired, I leave those to you.
Seventeen, life around me, now, all that is alive around me, in this very moment that I am about to disappear, I thank, yes, I thank it.
Eighteen, the road I have traveled, all the roads I have traveled on the wrong way because it was the heart to order it.
Nineteen, the fast hug, all fast hugs that lasted too little, I wish the time to stop and render them motionless as the trees that will be my friends forever.
Twenty, the falls on the way, all falls on the way that made you cry, adored daughter, kiss again for me those wounded knees.
Twenty-one, the food that was enough for me, all the food was not special but it was enough, I thank too, yes, I thank it too.
Twenty-two, the water that was enough, all the water that was not due, but was enough, I have to thank, yes, I have to.
Twenty-three, the departures of no return, all departures without apparent return, except the last one, this.
Twenty-four, the sunset that I have not loved, all the sunsets that I have not loved at all, because the most beautiful day was at the end, except the last one, this.
Twenty-five, you, all of you in my life, thank you, yes, and thank me you too, if you will be so nice.
Twenty-six, dear husband and sweet daughter, for all the times that I uttered these words, do as I would have said it thousand other times and pick up everything within you.
Together.
With what is left of me…
Read more stories about life
Buy my latest book The hoax of the migrants
Listen my song Wolves
Storytelling videos with subtitles
More on Stories and News:
Last year there were found the remains of 66 years old Geraldine Largay, who had been reported missing in July of 2013 after leaving the Appalachian Trail during her walk.
Details revealed only recently, the woman, aware of going to die has left the following message: "When you find my body, please call my husband George and my daughter Kerry. It will be the greatest kindness for them to know that I am dead where you found me — no matter how many years from now."
Before surrendering, Geraldine has survived twenty-six days...
What's left of me.
 |
| Photo from The Guardian |
What's left of me in twenty-six fragments.
One, the first time, all the first times, each first time that we have lived together, convinced that the miracle would be repeated again. Rarely it goes really like that, but we can certainly not complain of this.
Two, the steps I did, all the steps that I did, but only small ones, respectful for the time and the persons involved, as in the room where my daughter faced the first essay in school.
Three, when I was angry with you, my husband, all the times that I was angry with you and we had no way to turn aversion into its opposite. Well, I do now, now it's up to you.
Four, the trips we did, my loves, all the trips we did and we never went back because there was nothing to return to.
Five, the strength that I stole from you, all the strength that I secretly stole from you, I swear that I have not wasted a gram.
Six, the person that I forgot, all the people I wanted to forget, I am sorry just now, despite being late.
Seven, the tears that I have hidden, all the tears I hid are free, now, because there is nothing to be ashamed of when it receives all the weight that really deserves.
Eight, the hands I shook, all hands that I made no eye contact with life behind them, only now I see and understand.
Nine, the air I did not breathe, all the air that I have not breathed that day because I was not there, though I should be.
Ten, the ground which I rest on, all the ground which I could rest on, only now resonates identical and made of the same earth.
Eleven, the kiss that you wanted to give me, companion that I leave, give me all the kisses you wanted, do it now and I will stand still forever.
Twelve, the music that made me dance, all the music that made me dance, inside, but I remained still for modesty.
Thirteen, the images that have made me move, all the images that moved me, inside, but I remained silent for custom.
Fourteen, the scenes that made me indignant, all the scenes that made me indignant, and I raised my voice, the sky or whoever bless them one by one.
Fifteen, the night we made love, every night we made love only with your eyes, my beloved one, I will bring with me.
Sixteen, the day when our daughter smiled, as often as she smiled when in fact I was sad, or just tired, I leave those to you.
Seventeen, life around me, now, all that is alive around me, in this very moment that I am about to disappear, I thank, yes, I thank it.
Eighteen, the road I have traveled, all the roads I have traveled on the wrong way because it was the heart to order it.
Nineteen, the fast hug, all fast hugs that lasted too little, I wish the time to stop and render them motionless as the trees that will be my friends forever.
Twenty, the falls on the way, all falls on the way that made you cry, adored daughter, kiss again for me those wounded knees.
Twenty-one, the food that was enough for me, all the food was not special but it was enough, I thank too, yes, I thank it too.
Twenty-two, the water that was enough, all the water that was not due, but was enough, I have to thank, yes, I have to.
Twenty-three, the departures of no return, all departures without apparent return, except the last one, this.
Twenty-four, the sunset that I have not loved, all the sunsets that I have not loved at all, because the most beautiful day was at the end, except the last one, this.
Twenty-five, you, all of you in my life, thank you, yes, and thank me you too, if you will be so nice.
Twenty-six, dear husband and sweet daughter, for all the times that I uttered these words, do as I would have said it thousand other times and pick up everything within you.
Together.
With what is left of me…
Read more stories about life
Buy my latest book The hoax of the migrants
Listen my song Wolves
Storytelling videos with subtitles
More on Stories and News: