Presence

The Silent Language of Love

This post is also available in Spanish. Read it here

There are moments when signs do not arrive alone.
They arrive in sequence. As if someone were carefully weaving them together.

In the days surrounding the 29th anniversary of Matías in heaven (January 30), small gestures began to appear—as they often do—some discreet, others deeply loving.

First, a quiet night. In the early hours of the morning, Matías’ giraffe began to play, as if announcing his presence.

That same day, in Nelda’s house—the home where we used to gather with Matías in community, sharing food, laughter, and where he left so many traces—something unexpected appeared: on her table, with salt, pepper, marbles, and dried leaves, there formed what I immediately recognized as a little bird. A simple, almost childlike mischief. Exactly the kind of thing Matías would have done.

Nelda called me to say:
—Nubia, Matías was here. Look what he did.

Then came the anniversary day.

I was at home, sitting in the living room, right in the spot where Matías used to sit. Andrés had gone out, and the silence was deep, but not empty. Suddenly, I heard something that is rarely heard around here: a flock of geese calling.

I thought: how strange.

And without knowing why, I thought of Andrés. Of how much he loves geese, how he takes photos and videos of them, how many times he watches them while thinking of Matías.

Just a few minutes later, Andrés arrived home.
He walked in with an emotion that was hard to explain and said to me:
—You won’t believe what I just saw.

Without thinking, I replied:
—The geese?

He fell silent.
Then he said yes. That they had flown right over him. That he had recorded them.

The sequence did not end there.

A couple of days later, Matías showed himself again—this time through doves, in front of Luisa. As if the message were not meant for just one person, but for several. As if he were saying: “This is not a coincidence. I am here.”

There is no need to look for grand explanations.
Not everything has to be proven to be felt.

Signs do not always arrive as a single striking event.
Sometimes they arrive one after another, in different places, with different people, in ways that only those who love deeply know how to recognize.

A sound in the night.
An improvised little bird.
Geese crossing the sky.
Doves appearing at just the right moment.

They do not shout.
They do not impose.
They accompany.

And when one looks back and connects the dots, one understands that love does not disappear.
It simply learns new ways to be present.

Matías continues to find his own. 🕊️💙