2023-11-20 11:33:54
Heartbroken, on Sunday night, Dario Barassi said goodbye to his mother, Laura, with a heartbreaking letter that he posted on Instagram.
In the intimate writing, the actor and host not only expressed how much he loves and admires his mother, but also everything he will miss regarding her.
Laura died following battling aggressive pancreatic cancer, which had been diagnosed on December 31, 2022.
DARÍO BARASSI’S POVING WORDS FOR HIS MOTHER, AFTER HER DEATH
The country today is in one, but unfortunately I am in another.
Finally it happened. That last breath, that last kiss, caress, hug came. It hurts, relieves and hurts once more.
You left us old lady. There we were, the usual 3 of us and the pillar of a woman next to me, collapsed in an eternal embrace over your body.
Last night when I came home I obviously mightn’t fall asleep, I listened to those last demanded breaths of yours while I looked out the window at the only star in the sky, and I started making a list of what I’m going to miss regarding you. Spoiler alert, a lot of gastronomic issues. Namely…
Víttel tone and its scratch card.
Creole salad.
Lemon sponge cake and the icing scrape.
How badly you sing, especially at mass when you did it with so much passion and deafness.
Cheating at cards.
Tell me that I’m not your favorite.
Tell me Gorito.
What a good whore you are. That imbbbbecil was glory.
Your gardens.
The smell of your houses.
Tu perfume.
Your changes of looks.
Your irony.
Your arms with salt shaker.
Your tan since September.
Your jars with cookies.
Your photo albums.
Your giant beds full of pillows.
Your elbow creams.
Your hands.
Your laughter.
Your asshole face when he surrounded you.
The joy when you were with my daughters.
Your snoring.
You tupper of fiambres.
Your wallet with a thousand bills.
Your English pronunciation.
Your love to my friends.
The affection of my friends with you.
Your complicity and unconditionality.
Your madness and defects.
Your desire to always fight it.
Your defeats, this is how we lifted you up…
A thousand other things, but I have to sleep tomorrow, it’s your funeral and I have to tell the dwarfs what happened (that’s how it was in the note I made).
Basically I’m going to miss having you, pretty old lady.
The shell of the parrot.
See you always, my old lady. I keep listening to that breathing, no longer so demanding, but more pleasant. Bon voyage.
The gorito
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