A Hug for the Soul

mafe roig photography

 

– Are you happy to see me? – I asked him while tears fell down my cheeks.

– Of course – He answered with a smile. There. Just sitting there at his table, that is no longer his, eating breakfeast just like so many other mornings I went to say hello.

I grabbed his hand in both of mine still crying. Tears fought with the smile that was trying to take over but there was no apparent winner.
He seemed happy. Healthy. Like before everything happened. We stared at each other for a little while and more. Me crying, him smiling.
My tears were an unbalanced mixture of happiness and sadness. I was sad because I miss him so much, and happy to see him again. I cried because it has been a long time since he is gone, and I smiled because, once again, after so long, we met again in my dreams.
– Hi, grandpa ¿How have you been? –

One Morning

 

IMG_8893

There were a lot of dreams that night. There were oceans with waves as high as skycrapers; dolphins swimming in underground rivers lighten by the light of a millions fluorescent fireflies.

There were grandparents that are are long gone, gardens that live only in memories and feelings clouded by the veil of the night. The kind that dwell dreams and fade with sunlight and reality.

You wake up with the uncertainty of present mixed with the nostalgia of the past and the fear of future.

Like when someone feels he is falling from his bed and wakes up startled, thinking that somethin happened, just to realize that he was dreaming and everything remains the same.

You look around without knowing what to think and tell yourself that you must get up. And in that very moment its only up you to decide if it will be a good day or not.

Dragging your feet across the ground, very unconvinced of going out of bed and facing the worl, you get that cup of coffee that promises to clear up the fog in your mind and open your eyes for as long as the sun shines outside.

And without even thinking it, like summer sun in the middle of winter, a little, beautiful detail peeks, makes you smile and is no longer up to you.

Its going to be a good day.

Doors

One of the good things about moving to the country your grandparents were born, is that you get to know were your family comes from. Last week I got to visit the town my granfather was born and raised, Premià de Mar. It’s right in front of the beach, located about half an hour away from Barcelona and it’s absolutely beautiful.

20140102_130417

I went there with my parents and hubby. Mi dad actually lived there for some time and he took us to the street where he lived with his grandmother. He couldn’t remember exactly wich was their house but I was amazed as I’ve never seen a street like that before. all the houses are right next to one an another, with one huge door and a balcony on the the second floor.

The thing I liked the most were the doors. Every house has the same style, but every door is a complete new story. They are so big and beautiful I couldn’t resist to take a photo of each one.

As there was no one around I didn’t get the chance to ask about them, but I’m sure all the houses and their doors have great stories behind them. Blue, green, wood, white, fancy, old, modern, big and small this doors fascinated me. What could they have seen in all this years?

My favorite is the first one, the white one, with stone walls. Wich one do you like the best?