I chose May to be without limitations: first time abandoning the color palette, I let it be what it wanted to be, leading my way instead. A month that became versatile in its appearances: my granddad passed away and I went back home.
21.05: My grandfather was writing poems. When yesterday we were putting them all together in a book, one of them was named ‘The only one’. I figured it was about love from the name; what I had yet overlooked – it was about his love for me. In all the pictures we had together, in all the lullabies he was singing to me when I was a kid, in all the poems he wrote for us – all of it was permeated with love.
He always loved music. He never learned how to play piano, but he could always perfectly pick up the melody with no faults by simply hearing it. He was dancing in a famous folklore dance band and travelled around the world, and he always danced at all the weddings we had. He cooked delicious meals, sometimes especially for me, and I keep some of his recipes written down. I believe there were no things where he was not good enough: from being a math teacher to fixing plumbing.
From this sudden visit back home, I am going to keep many things: starting with the poetry book of him and some of the old photos I took from the drawer, to the memories full of love and incredible strength that will keep me through the toughest times. Through him we could hear the melody of the world, listen to it and become perceptive to its enchantments. Death cannot take the memories we have of people, neither can it take love.
31.05: “This May, my granddad passed away. But life goes on, and my thirst for life is as strong as it hasn’t been for a while. Have I become wiser this May? Probably. Or probably not. No matter what, I know that May was different and still beautiful – and surely made me stronger.”
