❝when it hurts, but it hurts so good,
do you take it? do you break it off?
when it hurts, but it hurts so good,
can you say it? can you say it?
your love is like (hey, na-na-na, na-na)
your love is like (hey, na-na-na, na-na)
it hurts so good (hey...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
IF YOU ASK CAIO SENNA WHAT HE REMEMBERS ABOUT THAT TRAGIC DAY ON THE FIRST OF MAY 1994, HE'LL TELL YOU HE REMEMBERS EVERYTHING. Being four years old at the time, no young child should ever have to experience something like that. The first bit of trauma in their life. The death of a family member. The death of a father, his father. Ayrton Senna.
What was supposed to be an exciting race turned into everyone's worst nightmare. It didn't help that one of the ones most affected by the accident was Michael Schumacher, who had been driving behind Ayrton Senna when the crash happened.
Caio remembers the screams, the crying, and the eerie silence that had taken over the spectators and commentators when the Williams that Ayrton was driving collided with the wall at the Tamburello corner. He remembers everyone's panic and the way the marshals were frantically running over to the scene of the crash to see if Ayrton was okay. He remembers the debris that had flown every direction after the impact. He remembers the yellow and red flags that were flying. He remembers the ambulance and the medical helicopter. He remembers the sirens. He remembers his family upset and crying, sobbing. He remembers his cousin Bruno talking to him to try and distract him from what had just happened, so that he wouldn't ask questions later. He remembers this gut feeling, the butterflies fluttering around in his chest as his stomach did somersaults, feeling nauseous and dizzy, but not knowing what happened. But he knew something was wrong, just on that feeling alone and what he saw around him.
He remembers leaving the stands and vomiting right there in the ground. Everything else had been a blur, yet he still remembers. He remembers going to the ambulance. He remembers his family following him, trying to get him to stop walking before he sees what has happened. He remembers seeing his father unresponsive. He remembers being at the hospital with his family sometime later, and seeing the white tarp covering his father's body. He remembers being told that his father had died. He remembers the emptiness he felt, knowing that he would never see his father again. That this was the last time he would ever see Ayrton.
That day, Caio had lost a part of himself. The person he barely had any time with, his father, gone, just like that, taken from this world too soon.
✧ ✧ ✧
May 1, 2004
Each day and night he prays. When he wakes up every morning, he prays. Before bed every night, he prays. He doesn't know why he bothers doing it, though. He wasn't religious any more. He used to be Catholic. Now, he just stopped believing. He doesn't know who or what he's praying to. But he's been praying since he was little, every day and every night. It's like they say, old habits never die.
