🕰️ When Time Beats Again

Small signs, big certainties.

This post is also available in Spanish. Read it here

Just today, Wednesday —Matías’ day— his clothes, his shoes, and his toys began a new journey. They went to accompany, comfort, and bring joy to other children. As I watched them go, I felt that each piece carried a spark of his light, and that, somehow, Matías would keep embracing the world through them.

While we were preparing the donations —clothes, shoes, toys— we found an old watch, a Fitbit that hadn’t worked in years. We plugged it in, just to try, and to my surprise, it turned on.

On the screen was a date: July 26, the day Matías was born.
After so long without life, the watch came back on with his date.
I felt as if he was saying, “Mom, my time is still here, in everything you touch with love.”

Days later, we went to celebrate the 100 years of Roquettes. There were children everywhere, and amid all that play, I could feel his energy, his laughter, his light.
Then we passed by Rockefeller Center, where the great tree had just arrived —still surrounded by scaffolding and guards, waiting for its glow.

We went into the famous toy store FAO Schwarz, full of plush animals —tigers, elephants, giraffes, sloths— and I thought: Matías had them all.

On the train ride home, I picked up my phone to check the time and saw his smile as my wallpaper. For a moment, I thought I was holding Andrés’ phone —my husband’s— because he’s had that same picture of Matías since the day our son left.

But no… it was my phone, with my case, my screen.
The photo that has always lived on Andrés’ phone appeared on mine.
On his, the image moves —Matías laughs— but on mine, it appeared still, serene, peaceful.

And I knew it was him again, playing with the phone just as he did the day he left —when he changed my wallpaper for the first time.

Matías didn’t use the phone much, but he knew how.
And he still does. 📱✨

That night, the giraffe —silent for more than twenty days— started playing nonstop.
Andrés got up and said, “The giraffe was cold tonight.”
And I smiled, because I already knew who it was.

Each stage has its own time.
Sometimes it takes days, other times months or years… there’s no rush, no clock that tells you when it’s time to let go. Each person feels it in their own moment —and that’s okay. It’s not about forgetting, but transforming —allowing what their hands once loved to continue giving warmth, play, and life to others.

Our beings of light guide us through that process, leaving small signs to show us they’re happy, walking with us every step of the way.
Matías has done it from the very beginning —and this time, with every sound of his giraffe, he let us know he’s happy.