A Colorful Carlos Day
I seat under the glass dome at Francesca. When I raise my eyes and see the entrance to my gym, I smile remembering how I met my dear friend Joel there—this would have never happened if I had not challenged myself to operate outside my shrinking comfort zone.
After introducing myself I asked him if I could take his picture along with his photographers, but the photographers told me: “He is a famous personality, the photos you are taking are worth a lot of money.” From this beginning our smooth friendship developed.
“Dr. Novelli, I want to tell you about Sylvia, my new friend. It has been so easy to get along with her. A respite from my struggles to get along with Gustavo.”
We met in September when Buenos Aires waited for the Jacarandá trees to show off their light purple flowers that tint the city.
Why don’t we have an all Carlos day, said Sylvia? We made her idea come true going to his favorite places, doing the activities he liked, and eating his favorite foods.
Starting at La Biela, we engaged Miguel to be part of Carlos’s day. He was happy to participate as he and Carlos had shared a current of mutual affection.
Our next destination, Centro Cultural Recoleta was another Carlos favorite. The current exhibit got our attention: Films in the Mind: Psychology and Cinema since Sigmund Freud.
Once outside Sylvia voice at full volume urged me to walk faster: Hurry up, Beatriz! Look up to the campanile: do you see the rainbow that just appeared around it? It is Carlos, he is watching us, he feels happy we are remembering him like this.
I made reservations at Sottovoce, secured the third table in the intimate upstairs seating; this was ‘Carlos’s and my table.’ The same welcoming champagne that Carlos and I used to drink was brought to our table immediately and we consumed it right away. Now giggling, since we don’t normally consume alcohol…
“How were you feeling about this experience, Beatriz,” asks Dr. Novelli.
It was a like being with Carlos,” I say. To negotiate with Sylvia was easier than negotiating with myself. Of course, I kept comparing the smoothness of being with Sylvia to the tumultuousness of being with Gustavo.
Dr. Novelli, listening to my unconscious, shares an insight I will ponder for some time, since it shows a proclivity in my personal relationships which is strictly grief-related.