Pilar Cabreza Buria, 37, died in the train bombings in Madrid, 11 March 2004, a Thursday. Her husband, Jesus Antonio Munoz, buried her on Saturday after sitting by her coffin over Friday night. He spoke of his feelings to a BBC reporter. This is an extract: "I started watching television at 0800 in the morning. By 0930 I was completely consumed by the fear that my wife had died.
But you don't lose hope.
We were looking in all the hospitals during all that day and all the night. We couldn't find her anywhere.
It's a terrible feeling.
During the night in the room where we were waiting there was a certain protocol. I didn't realise what was going on at first, but little by little it dawned on me.
At a little past 0800, I called emergency services and gave her name. The person who answered the phone was very nervous. She directed me to the place where the doctors would have more information.
Minutes later, they offered me a pill. That was it. The end.
It's absurd. I don't feel any repulsion. I don't know - indifference. The only thing I know is that they've torn out my heart. And now I'm like a child of five years old. Now I've got to start everything again - becoming an adult all over again.
I've got to say that it's all the same to me - whether it's Eta, or al-Qaeda, or any other group of terrorists. To me it's the same feeling. The only thing I know is that they've snatched away a part of my life and nobody can bring it back.
I don't care who they are. I don't care what happens to the people who did it.When you bury a person, the pain is that it is the last moment when you have that person next to you. "
©BBC 2004blog comments powered by Disqus