Is it that we relive once more, or we just merely remember?
Having relived that childhood scene, Angelica gathered her thoughts and focused on the moment, the interrupted breakfast and the family reunion. Her face showed a slight smile, perhaps a bit nostalgic and possibly brought on by the memories of her first exposure, not only to the compelling, undeniable, magical attraction of the violin, but also, to the captivating beauty of music in general… the same craft which with the years would become the central axis of her awakenings, the motor that would impulse her to soar to the higher reaches of her soul, and ultimately become the deepest answer from within her soul to those most cherished dreams and aspirations.
Turning towards the rest of the family, she broke that heavy, silent atmosphere which had settled among them all, due to the dog’s barking, and she remarked:
“That barking is like an old friend. You could call it a déjà vu, but that is not so. Just imagine, if you will. I heard it so many years ago, when I was but a small kid.” There was a streak of tiredness in her voice which suddenly gave the rest the impression that she was weary and tired as if she had abruptly aged.
“What do you mean by that Angelica? Whatever are you talking about?”
Felipe asked in a soft, gentle voice, being the first to have slowly recovered from that rare feeling which invaded everyone during that breakfast.
Immediately, Angelica, in her soft, melodious voice, proceeded to narrate the story of that weekend in Villa de Leyva which had happened when she was five-years old. All gathered to listen, attentive and quiet, hanging on to each of her words, as she spoke. Among them all, the only one that knew the story was Julian, her husband, who also listened with a soft, sad smile, as if he was carrying the weight of so many years gone by since the childhood days of his dear wife, a heavy load bearing down on his shoulders.
© All photos by edudelcorral