There is a lack of touch, of human warmth, of sensitivity. After Nico died, Juan José missed the next call asking how he was doing and if he already had a doctor’s appointment. He was overcome with anxiety when he was handed his son’s ashes without an intimate place to receive them lovingly, “as if they were a pot in a hardware store, with that cold feeling that they no longer had any value.” Organizing the accounts, the bank made a transfer that listed the son, who had died a few months earlier, as the sender. Surprise, anger, worry.
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Angel had to wait almost eight months for the autopsy of his son, also young, also dead by suicide. Nearly eight months of anguish after anguish, anger coming to the surface. Samples for toxicological analysis were sent to the Institute of Forensic Medicine and Forensic Medicine of the Community of Madrid. As confirmed by the newspaper EL MUNDO, sometimes due to delays in this organization, some of the work is transferred to the National Institute of Toxicology and Forensic Science, under the Ministry of Justice. But even there, deadlines have been extended. “The procedures are terrible,” Angel denounces, although he appreciates the “gestures of humanity” of those who speed up procedures to make such painful days more bearable. Under the circumstances, he prefers not to talk about grief.
