I remember the afternoons of a 90’s summer reading “Heroes”. It is assumed that I belonged to “Generation X”, when we did not use cell phones or send WhatsApp messages, but we spent our days listening to Green Day and Nirvana.
Those sticky afternoons of that great summer, while reading “Heroes”, I thought that real heroes did not exist. After all, the world was too complex and I was too young.
I liked to imagine that you were writing to me, that you were telling me about sadness and the songs that cover up sadness and that sadness returns when the song is over. In short, that you wrote those things that went through my head when I was 16 years old and that you wrote them for me, to comfort me a little from the lack of love and the traumas that I thought I had in my life.
I confess to you, Ray Loriga, I think I fell in love with your lyrics, and, actually, a little bit with you.
I didn’t know anything about life. I wanted to be a war correspondent and ended up being a lawyer working in an office. He believed in love, also in lack of love. But what difference does it make, if in the end it was about staying upright day after day and continuing to dream of that distant future.
A few days ago, Pedro Simón did an interview with you in “El Mundo” where you revealed that he had operated on you for a brain tumor. That you were not afraid to die, you say, but to look bad. I understand you.
We get older and the times when we dreamed of you who knew what, vanished one fine day without saying goodbye.
I understand you, he said, because I still think you were writing to me. And that in the end I also know what it is to be told about cancer. Of the damn hospital wards and an operation that you go to like someone who goes to war, without a clear destination, but deep down, with thousands of dreams yet to be fulfilled.
Dear Ray Loriga, I did have a fear of dying, of not being able to continue embracing time. Not being able to ask for forgiveness from whom he owed. To rest my arms on the piano or love excessively.
I recently understood that Heroes do exist. Your words, those that I thought you were writing for me, become more accurate than ever: “You know that all the best will come with the changes but you are afraid to close the door because you had already learned to handle the old misfortunes, it usually happens, it is not nothing strange, a hero without fear is a dead hero. ” (“Heroes”)