When he was fifteen years old it was going in the car with my mother, my father and my two brothers fernando and victor, we were going to spend a few vacations in house of the grandmother in City Bolivar, were going every summer, they were the happiest days of my life, we were running in the estate for all sides, were eating all kinds of fruits, gone out for the river and all the things that can be done in vacations. One day we were going of way and there was a tail in the highway, apparently an accident. After almost 3 hours in the route we could see what had happened: a truck of load had shocked a small car, a silver spark, in there were going one 35-year-old woman of age and a 6 year old child. The woman out was receiving the first aids was crying disconsolately and was shouting again and again: Daniel! Daniel! Noo, God why?. I and my brothers were impressed of seeing the woman crying and of they were taking his son to themselves in a black market, which the paramedic with an air of coldness hill ado. In this moment to my mind so many things were coming, only it could think about my mother. Father and my brothers. To be without them up to the rest of my life only with the recollection of his faces in my memory. The pain of the loss of a dear being is an emptiness in your interior, the sensation of vulnerability, of imagining your life without this person. It is hard. Then already of being 26 years old And to be the major one of my brothers my father, it expires in the same road, it was raining in this moment and key for a crag. My mother and my brothers were crying disconsolately and alone I was looking at the floor, spill not even a tear, I remember that my mother was saying to myself: Since you can be so it fried. It was not a coldness, simply it could not cry. Now I lift the sight to the horizon and can see a fixed point that includes all my attention and that if perhaps it is snatched me, I must leave it go.