It is incredible how much a life can change in only six months.

My cousin Lucas is one and a half years old since some weeks now. One year and a half of permanent laugh, of naughty eyes and curly hair. One year a half in which, the last one arriving, became the main character of my family, the center of our birthdays, the core point in New Year’s eve. My cousin Lucas is only one and a half years old, so for him six months are in fact one third of his whole life.

I guess that I perceive a bigger change given I have hardly seen him.

But the fact is that during these six months, Lucas has learnt how to walk. He has stopped crawling and staggering while holding whoever hands to become a two-legs-all-terrain  that climbs chairs and runs along corridors. During these six months, Lucas has discovered the mechanism of the switch with the bright on the eyes of a person that is wearing the world for the first time has; the magic enclosed in the fact of switch on a key and creating light. During these six months Lucas has learnt how to talk. He has moved from babbling some unconnected syllables to memorize complex words. During these six months, Lucas has learnt the name of all the members of my family, the word “no” and the world “bisa”* to call my granny. During these six months Lucas has learn to toast with his water bottle, to play by his own, to imitate my aunt’s laugh, to brush his teeth, to point out the things that burn, to count until three; to explain that, after putting on his trousers, he needs to put on the socks.

It is incredible, isn’t it?

During the last six months Lucas’ life has drastically evolved. Six months in which he has grown up and changed; six months of an accelerated developmental, of discovering life’s rules, of living intensely, of feeling a lot.

Six months represent a big and relevant change in a child that is less than two years old.

And however,

for us,

six months are monotonously accumulated on the time-lived pile.

Without any change.

                Without any rush.

                               Without any surprise.

                                               Without any noise.

                                                               Without any laugh.

Without even creating a little change…


Six months ago I moved into Padova.

Six months.

Or a third of a life.

– Inés –


*(“bisa” comes from “bisabuela”, so it is a short and cute way to say “great-grandmother in Spanish”).