Of course, here’s a reminder of that special memory. Sometimes, our memory gives us perfect snapshots, moments so vivid that we can almost touch them just by closing our eyes. Exactly one year ago, life gave me one of those unforgettable snapshots on the terrace of the City Place shopping center, here on our beloved Margarita Island. It wasn’t a special occasion, there was no birthday or anniversary to celebrate, and perhaps that’s why the memory shines so brightly. It was simply a celebration of being together. The afternoon sun was beginning to set, painting the Margarita sky with brushstrokes of orange and violet. The heat of the day was dissipating, giving way to that complicit sea breeze that always seems to whisper stories. At our table, the center of the universe, was my mom, with her easy laugh that is music to the soul; my grandmother, with the serene wisdom in her eyes and her hands always ready to offer a caress; and a couple of friends who are the family you choose. We were a small battalion of affection, ready to conquer the night. The City Place terrace was buzzing with a vibrant and relaxed energy. The lights of the bars and restaurants began to come on, creating an intimate atmosphere under the open sky. In the background, a local band tuned their instruments, and the promise of live music floated in the air. The murmur of conversation, the clinking of ice in glasses, and the anticipation created the perfect atmosphere. Soon the cocktails arrived, a parade of tropical colors and flavors. A mojito for me, with fresh mint; a strawberry daiquiri for my mom, sweet like her; and for my grandmother, a smooth piña colada, which she sipped with a smile of pure satisfaction. We toasted. We toasted to the moment, to health, to the fortune of sharing that unhurried, carefree moment, simply anchored in the present. When the music started, everything took on a new dimension. The ballads and Latin rhythms became the soundtrack to our conversations. We talked about everything and nothing: anecdotes from the past that my grandmother dusted off like treasures, future plans and dreams we still had to fulfill, the trivialities of everyday life that, when shared, felt important. Between laughter and sips of cocktails, I saw my mother’s face illuminated by the dim lights and felt a wave of gratitude so immense that it almost overwhelmed me. That afternoon-evening a year ago on the terrace of City Place was more than just a simple gathering. It was a reminder that happiness often lies in the simplest things: a good conversation, the music that surrounds you, the taste of a well-made cocktail, and, above all, the irreplaceable company of the people you love. Today, that memory is a refuge, a warm postcard I return to when I need to remember what really matters.
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