10 de mayo 2013

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WITH FLYING COLORS

“Friend, our closeness lies in this:

 with every step you take, feel me in the firmness underneath”

Rumi

Im going to begin being a lady avoiding the real word, so let’s say I   was “a little bothered”.  And a little would be just as fair as true itself. So, here I was going again to face another test to see if I was worth the love of my baby.  I was pissed off (more colloquially) for a number of reasons, one would be that I wished for my own self a friend who would test my chosen one trying to find out if he was worth my love and devotion; somebody who would be my guard against my own romanticism and guide me so that this time I won’t be making another mistake. Another would be that, since Tom is who he truly is, I have been tested for the last 7 months with different parameters that could go, according to my own set of values, from valid to totally unfair.  Then, I was thinking I was too old, too everything to be having any kind of tests, especially taking into an account that very soon I will have to face some tests that I might fail because it has been long since I studied math and if I wanted to remain close to this man I loved as I never have loved before,the only way to stay in this country would be as a student in one of the universities chosen.  And then,- perhaps  a little more daring- I was thinking that it should be I the one giving tests to  everyone! 

Every time that I was about to know a new person in Tom’s life, I was “warned” somehow about this or that and at that moment I was not in the very right patience- gear mode that I  have found myself in lately. Still, having been smothered so much by this love of ours and still amused for having been blessed this way, I didn’t say anything.  And frankly between the two of us, truth is, I wanted so much to be accepted by all the people that were important for him!- I wanted to be loved, and I wanted to feel sure that I would be able to convey what there was really to be seen.

So up to another dinner… The “new girlfriend” was about to be introduced… tada! I was not nervous at all, I have had  to face so much in my life, personally and professionally, that it is very rare that I lose my composure and steel  calmness these days; that is, being already fifty,  I don’t get that nervous anymore  but I was curious and I was anticipating the joy of learning more about him

The moment this Ranjan came into the room he stole my heart. He simply stole it.  I don’t know why or how.  Could it have been the first phrase he said to me, “what are you doing with these two guys?” or could it have been the little spark of mischievousness that I saw in his eyes? Or the wide smile that he had on him that made me feel as if the room was brighter? Or maybe it happened later when I was able to hear his voice kind of soft, kind of- again- surprisingly naughty telling about some old stories about them.  Or maybe it was when I saw how, between those two, true friendship steamed from one to another as a limpid cascade ran into its river and from the river to the ocean.  I could almost touched the love between the true friends and so my heart was touched by joy for the two of them

For at this stage I know that there are some intangible things that weight much more than what is visible.  Or what is considered valuable in these days, or what gives us comfort or security.  Friendship as love can never be overrated.  I think about the true friends I have and I value them as I value my dreams or my soul or the spirit that lies in me that makes me get up again and again even if sometimes it feels I can’t anymore.

Maybe what caught me  was the moment when he got my eyes and said, “because you can feel things” and I knew that he had recognized what is within as I have recognized  what is there too.

I don’t know. What I do know is that that his Ranjan has passed my test with flying colors- as he gallantly said I have when I kind of teased him about the whole thing-  because whether I had a test or not, whether I would ever pass it  or not,  whether I am wise or not, candid or not, that night I was able to sense that he is one of a kind, my babys true friend: a middle age hedge funder- Indian American man with the sweetest voice and manners, with most sparkling  twinkle in a pair of eyes that speaks about joie de vivre, with the softest  curve in his lips that tells me about kindness, so,  this day where my soul contrives for a future than more than ever seems not that clear or sure, I feel glad they have had each other

"And if you say the word, you could stay with me"

Para Mariel 

We came to Houston as survivors of  a shipwreckedge. Because thats what we were.  To this date I dont  know if  I let go the wheel, if  I betrayed my captain, if I provoked a mutiny or if I had not been able to figure it out the map trusted upon me, but  we were there  and I had my second and third on board standing solidly by my side.

I dont know how we did it but when I see the way we were those days I realize how young naive nd hurt the three of us were.

Since Nandy my niece was supportingly caring for us there, being Houston her other homeland, she, wanted to take us to meet Macarita, her friend
And what a fine lady Macarita was! , so sweet, so nice making us feel home when our home had just been finally pulled down after years and years of erosion.

-She served us pina colada and of course, after the first sip I got tipsy.

She would go to her bedroom and then came back to the living Then again to the bedroom, then again back to the living  and so on chitchatting while her husband yelled her name. Disease had taken her beloved away from her and his mind was lost among the turmoils of the unknown... Still, he remembered her name and more over  than that, what it had meant for him for the last fifteen years

They married late, both for the second time,  and before really getting old  he began to forget so much little by little
But his  lady would flutter around ftrying to find joy everywhere although one of her wings was broken

While  listening to her stories, I took a teddy bear that was sitting in a table near by. And then this Beetles song I never heard began to melt my strength
"Will you still need me, will you still feed me when im sixty four?"

Macarita explained that Dave gave it to her  and although I never met him, this image of this  sweet -romantic- white hair- young at heart boy giving his evermore bride a song for life wrapped in cotton stayed in my heart...
But seeing then the somewhat cruelty of life and being hurt and having hurt so badly I couldnt hold it
I cried there as if I were dying mourning the love I never had and probably never would

The girls looked at me trying to be brave themselves and Macarita and Nandy fussed around trying to cheer me up. Things would be fine.

Eight years have passed since that sunny afternoon in July

David is gone since long. His fine lady still flutters around wearing flowerly hats nd a smile in her face.   I saw her two months ago and she was walking radiantly as someone who caries the sweet  memory of having loved and having been loved would,  for she indeed loved him far beyond sixty-four and he indeed mended emptiness to soothe  her path.

And after eight years that have had infinite dark nights, it seems to me that I still havent found that someone who would really realized he care enough to trust second chances and who would love me enough to let me try to prove " I would still need him when his sixty four"

I like to play the song from time to time just to remind me that somewhere out there someone still would might sing to me  " and if you say the word, you could stay with me..."

Tom y yo como nos hubieramos visto hace 35 anos, solo que el con pelo de otro color y yo con menos arrugas...

 

MY TOM

The Beginning

So I was supposed to deliver a bottle of our most famous rum- Zacapa Centenario to this guy,my son in law’s uncle.  I called , I called again, left a message. I called again, no answer. Began to feel kind of bothered. "jeez this is our Rum?  Finally I guy with the strangest voice calls, apologizing.  He kind of mumbles the words so I panic! I don’t understand a word the guy is saying.  He will think Im an idiot!! And Im not...He will think I can’t understand a word in English. He senses my confusion, changes to Spanish. Even worse...Anyway, he apologizes ( good!) he explain he is not in Atlanta...mmmmm...he then says he will call next week. Alright dude   Ill wait with the bottle where it has been standing for more than 4 months!  He calls in a week. Its nine thirty! he would like to come and get the bottle...But im in bed! and I look dreadful and although Im not interested, I do look dreadful so patiently I explain... Im a chicken, I go to bed at 8; maybe next time?  But between courteous lines we have establish a nice funny mischievousness communication.. So he calls next week, after at least 4 what’s I understand that he feels bad for not picking it up earlier and he wants to invite me to dinner. I know he is safe, besides, I put forward the usual line… “the Department of State ...”.yet Im curious already, so I google him and find a nice picture with some info regarding what he does.  I read two lines, dont understand any, so I don’t read more...I tease him a little more.  I text him: I just want you to know that I eat a lot and I weigh 400 pounds. 

And so he comes, takes me to dinner.  Quietly I observe him and see how serene he is.  And so, we star dating after that first dinner, he finds out ways to call or to invite me. I find ways to text 

Little by little we begin to like the other, but nobody gives in an inch...may because we both have been hurt?  Until one night.  He invites me for the first time to his place and I accept.  I know Im safe- the Department of State stuff- and of course the opinion this uncle has of his friend ."He is  a very good guy"

So I go.  I offer to bring the best salad in the world because unfortunately, thats all I really know how to cook -which is not cooking I know-, so ok, the only thing that I don’t burn because it never reaches the stove or the oven. So I bring it.  I’m nervous. I prepare the salad there and he kind of bluntly –at least for me and my petulant beliefs of being a princess- states:  I don’t like arugula (what the heck am I supposed to do then? ) So with dignity,  I keep preparing the best salad in the world. I feel like walking out of there with the face of an ice queen.  

His place is nice. Im impressed I have to tell. I can easily get lost there.  Im trying not to become too impressed , to the point of not being me.  It is just a house.  A BIG house.  He takes me to the basement where we play pool and ping pong.  My very first step of a long road of losing begins..

After dinner he  talks about my getting another boyfriend, about my getting married again after at least two hours of talking about his ex and his swearing never to marry again.  I GET IT , I get it ( i was not counting on you marrying me, did I look like that!?? gosh I’m ashamed of myself! )

So when it is prudent and dignified, I say good- by ...THERE, there I get my first glimpse of triumph, he looks at me totally surprised and somehow worried  and moves fast to my side.  He holds me and gives me my first kiss.

What a surprise that kiss is;  he is warm and soft, and sweet and without my really knowing that that I waited for long, is finding its way.

So it’s already December, its December the second, I have been dining with him for about 2 months and here he is kissing me and I am responding very enthusiastically to the kiss,. Am I still safe?  

And worse, in two weeks he leaves for Costa Rica, he has been talking about this, and the trip with his family and what would happen then with this sunrise of ours.  Hummm, and then, little Anika decides to come earlier and the very same day,  we are both in the airport- he running trying to catch his plane, me running trying to avoid seeing him with his children.  What if they find me awful??!!- Anyway, I jump into my plane and he doesn’t reach me.  And off I go to Guate, and off he goes to Costa Rica.

But oh man! the longing is weird.  For me so many exciting news, a grandma, Im a grandma!, it can be, Im still an adolescent. Yet there's my child having a little girl.  Im all by myself, Alex my ex is there with his own girlfriend, I’m pissed off, this is my girl, but at the same time, I’m so glad for him. Maybe he will be happy with her. And meanwhile my heart travels fast to where he is, wondering if he thinks about this grandma,  with the arugula salad, and her jumping into planes.

We write each night, sometimes each mornings, by writing we show more of what we have never shown…one day I say, come and next Im getting a copy of his plane ticket to Guatemala.  

Im driving to the airport ,  Im so nervous, what am I doing for goodness sake?  ..and he is there and I jump out of the car and he holds me, and there is nothing else.  We went to Antigua, and what has been there for always becomes from being beautiful to being magical and I feel there's good in the world. It is now then when I began to see the person Im with.  

Also I begin to see how unfit I am, gosh I can’t even climb the hill to get to the restaurant where there is food and I am indeed craving for food, but the little hill is so but soo steep Im nauseous and he cannot ,should no,t better not see it.  He sees it. He, kind matter of factual –again- states that he is concerned with my being unfit..< I might not be able to do with him all the things he likes to do... like skiing (are you serious) hiking, playing tennis... >Gosh man, I was ballet dancer and a teacher for goodness sake!!!!!!... secretly I wish the restaurant has only arugula for breakfast.

So the three most perfect days passed and I find a friend and a lover in his arms but he has to go and I have to stay

I took him to the airport already longing for his warmth and we say good bye.  That night we are talking about new possibilities to find each other.  He then says Costa Rica.  Would I meet him there? Of course I would! How come not? But still the constant voice pinches my fears… can I dive into love?? So I asked my mom daughter for advice, she, generous as she is, says, Mom - you never have had chances like this, go, he is a good person.

Costa Rica

I want to have a dozen chocolates in my purse.  What If I don’t find him... what If I go hungry???  Im not prepare for this.  The plane cannot accept any more passengers.  The seats are occupied with my “what if's”.... and they are aggressive. This is a place where I have never gone in many senses, but I’m not walking backwards.  I go to the other airport and there I realize the true meaning of his question:  and my answer,..but God these are not little planes!!!. These are planes where Beatriz might die!  Yet I jump into it. Trying  to keep my dress modestly close to my legs and trying to no avail  to NOT look ridiculous as I sure look while trying to sit in the 6 passenger plane.  A roller coaster in the atmosphere no? Great!

I arrive and there we meet.  I see him and there are no doubts,  I trust him with my entire self and there's nothing more to it.

We come to his beautiful beautiful, beautiful amazing house.. .God I want a bed like that for my house, and a pool like that, and a couch like that, and a fountain, and yes of course I can swim with you to the island that looks so far away from this balcony, of course I can, I just wonder how  remains repatriation is done form Costa Rica to Guatemala.

Im swimming, he is swimming too, we are even, he swims as good as I, is he having this tiny thousand pinches all over his body? God they hurt like hell!  they sting, they Oh my God I think they are Jelly fish- baby jelly fish but still. It hurts… Im a champ, I dont say much, Im good, Im still good after 2 hours of swimming... Are there white  sharks-killer white great sharks in Costa Rica- what is wrong with me??????!!! Im a grandma and I have three daughters that need me! And a consulate that I like very much..and my bed, which is cozy.  I want it now!

So the next day is paddling- I wont go there... I would just say, I might have seemed like a crazy old hen over a board trying to paddle against the wind after following him against the body guard advice! No, Im not saying a word...then, some hiking…a hike where he graciously states again that if we ever have a relation……?????????? What the heck?? IF? Do you know a killer word? Well IF is a killer word!

God I have never hiked  hill after hill, after  hill so fast...what in the world is where I am then?? He now is my Dolphin, I call him Dolphin ... and Im thinking I would rather have a Tuna.  Tunas might be more diplomatic...and considerate. But my baby, it is impossible, simply impossible to have an argument with him ever. He looks hurt for me, he comes close to me and at dinner he moves his chair closer and closer so that there isn’t any space left between us.

He lets me know more about him, and I fall totally in love with him… because you see, I really don't know anything about his power which seems to be impressive, all I know is that he is the most humble person I ever known and goodness seems to flow from him  where ever he is-- 

One morning he has me in his arms and he says that maybe I’m not real, that maybe he is not something special, that maybe there have been many like him…tears begin to run from my eyes and I sweetly tell him the truth. I’m leaving my granddaughter and the daughter I never see because I want to be with HIM.  He has hurt me deeply, but  I love him already so much and I understand his fears because they are a mirror of my own.

Besides that, for a 5  24 hour- day together, I cannot believe I’m this lucky.  Here I am with a guy that might buy a piece of Alaska if he wants- and he does- but truth is he is a simple good sweet man who wants to be with me

We have fun and we learn more and more, and everything I learn although not all easy to digest I take as part of him.  

Again another airport, I have to go back to my girls, he has to go back to his life...and another goodbye and much more longing.

One day and a half and he is there waiting for me at Hartsfield.  It is cold in Atlanta, and the restaurant where we stop for dinner gest warm with our joy for being together.  Its January and another year is beginning

So Atlanta embraces us as if it had been waiting for us, everything slides so naturally, here we are with our many things to do, always looking, always reaching to always finding that warmth that has been placed there for our peace.

I see him walking quietly, I speak too much, he speaks very little, I take myself very seriously, he mocks me all the time, He is the most humble, I’m the most vain... he is the most devoted, I’m the most uncaring, I live thinking about tomorrow, he takes advantage of today,  but somehow the value of our ways of being, is given to the other just to enrich us.  And how much we enjoy that. We become pieces that fit naturally perfect in this puzzle of life that we have already spent probably most of it. Time and what remains of it seems so little, and fearful of what the future might bring,  we fiercely embrace the other  hoping that nothing will harm us.

Argentina
Although one of his many coming trips was apparently not for me- and this is a pending I will keep for a little longer- one day he just comes and asks me to go to Argentina.  A bike trip in Bariloche.  Are you serious again? I cannot do that! I mean, to go with your entire company and bike for hours and hours???! What will become of my touchies? Besides that, these people...maybe they won’t be nice to me... I dont want to fight fights that aren’t mine...or at least weren’t mine…

But how come would I say no??? I need to have every single instant I can spend with him and there I go again

What would my mom say? I better not tell her,  better not.  Better think that this is happening for a reason

Of course there are some trials from my past, some calls, some recriminations and some temptations, empty promises, some threatens, some fear -seeds well placed in my mind...but I have to trust my guts and they are saying, “Vuela Vuela...”

We go to Buenos Aires and immediately we both fall in love with the people, impossible to say here what we saw and lived there.  But we are young again, we are striving for a chance and we know we are having it.  Between wine and buildings,   learning and teaching, some mornings we stay just talking and listening hearing the other’s words painting the life we lived through all these years where we weren’t there... Some questions can be asked, some others not, but again, everything seems fine and inside my heart emerges a steady sweet tenderness for my pijuil- dolphin  filling my entire chest. He wants to go dancing, he wants to go the gym, to  go weight lifting, to walk to la Boca, and he seems so in love:

"I’m totally yours, you can ask me whatever you want, all I have is yours baby!!” , he exclaims every now and then looking me with true eyes and I believe him, pondering if I could ever take advantage of such power.

 So next morning I ask.  I say: “ I don’t want to walk anymore, Im tired already, We haven’t even began biking and Im demolished, please let’s take a cab! You said Ijust need to ask for anything and I will get it.  So please, I don’t want to walk anymore!”  He looks at me with perplexity and when I realize what is going on,  he is actually counting the blocks we will have to walk to get to La Boca.  OH MY GOODNESS, he meant it but he knows better uh?

All right so I trolled after him like an obedient puppy although he magnificently calls me Mi Leona...Leona, me? sure!

We met the rest of the party and we are off to Bariloche.  He doesn’t change, he is as sweet and as caring and demanding as he has been and I have never been this happy.  Each morning we spent hours talking and talking just learning about the other and it is never enough. There I told him about my day being he force that placed the strength that has sustained my over all these years, about how much he spoiled me in some senses and about how strict he was regarding food forcing me to eat brains- his favorite dish!.  

The frist biking day is a disaster! I vain as I am, come out with my special helmet that completes my gear.  He starts laughing like crazy, he even dares to beg me not to use such a thing.  He wons  I felt really awful.  So we jump into the bikes and this bike of mine is a rebel.  The wheel is different, a stubborn wheel and God I know Im gonna be in trouble.  Very soon Im off the bike pushing it over the hills.  Everybody is gonne.  Im singing Shell be coming round the Mountains admiring the surroundings.  Just before the first Mirador he comes back for me and gives me the tip: You have to put the gear in one one. So jump ( he doesn’t say it but I know he wants me to actually bike so I won’t feel ashamed) but the thing is that I don’t feel ashamed, I feel pissed off, Im not accomplishing it and it is obvious! But I wont follow his advice, it probably will make me look even worse!  Nevertheless, not once did I jump in the rescuing van.  Not once.  We end the biking experience and I did what I was supposed to do. My first 50 kms with some very stubborn hills.  I did it for him.  But I won too. That is his beauty.

One night in a very fancy restaurant, with a very fancy kind of waiter, I put a delicious bite of heaven in my mouth,..  As it is melting I turn to him and ask: what is this? ( the restaurant is one of those that present different dishes that are explained before taken to the table and as usual, I got disconnected after the first explanation) so baby what is this I asked rolling my eyes and he responds with a devilish look in his eyes: Brains!  I almost spit it! And then I got it.  Oh I would eat them to see that grin in his face again.

So the place captures us, we dance, we make love, we eat, we exercise, we talk, we learn more  And everything is good. Life is good.  But I know deep inside that for this love the only thing I really need is his arms and the way he looks at me. And I know if he was asked, he would say the same.   

Between kayaking and hiking and biking I come to know his people and through them I come to know him better.  I feel that allt he goodness that I have given is now return to me, I feel that all the goodness that a man can have, is in his heart to give.  This is the man that having an empire built with his own mind, and being really aware of how lucky he is,  would stop to offer a ride to a stranger in the middle of the night in the middle of nowhere after asking me if Im ok with it! All I see is a good soul and I had been chosen to walk along with him  for a period of time.  How long I don’t know but May I do it with wisdom and generosity.

Sometimes I wonder if I am infatuated.  I know Im not in a stage of life where people gets infatuated, but you have seen I sometimes act as if I were 16! So…. Im concerned with the whole infatuation thing. So easy to get there, and so easy too for it to dissolve into nothing…yet I know that it is not so  because I see what he is-stubborn and  demanding. I see his white hair, his wrinkles around his eyes, his  youth- strength beginning to abandon him; I imagine the mistakes he could have made, mistakes that are prone to be made again..and yet, I want to be with him. I long to share what is there within and I long to be a better person for him.

Its time to go back.  To go different paths since we have been together has never been easy but this time it really hurts.  Although we feel a little as if we need some space,  the moment we realize we aren’t going to be awakened by the others breath, it strikes hard.  I need him, and he needs me.  But it is not the time yet.

Life has never been more valued but it feels  time seems not enough. 

My Tom is joy in each smile and little grin, wisdom in each word, integrity in each action as there is strength in each muscle, he is generosity in each word, he  is striving for his loved ones in each action he takes, he  is taking advantage of each opportunity to be a better person..he is dreaming and achieving.  I never ever though someone like him existed.

But he does and he has found me.  For what I still don’t know the reason why,  he believes in me. 

So I take his hand and look deeply  into his eyes and I walk where he leads.


Beatriz Illescas

What I like about Him

I like his silence... the moments where it seemed we were standing still in time and where- what was on our minds was not relevant because at the end, what it would be, would be

I like the way he listened without watching ...but seeing

I like his few words, stated with dignity, wisdom, care and respect.

I like the vulnerability that he didn't want to show but which still was there

I like his sense of humor, bold, raw, conspicuous but hardly definable

I like the way he plays his game, barely giving up, never yielding; yet always ready to bring me closer

I like his voice soft and strong at the same time;

I like what he doesn't say but struggles to withhold...

I like his being independent but also the sweet surrender that he places from time to time in hope

I like the way he ignores my questions never making me feel ignored

I like his patience and his understanding and how with so little he shows me

I like the way he sees through me, maybe wondering, maybe pondering, silently learning,and confidently accepting

I like the lightness of his touch and the intensity of his gaze, the strength at the tip of his fingers and the soft kisses he gives me

I like the way he lives his time and I like his laughter, always spontaneous, a little mischievous and so filled with joy

I like what his wrinkles tell and what his sights reveal

I like the rich texture of caramel and milk that our skins develop together and the wild sensations that his touch unfolds

I love his presence in my life and the longing and pain this presence swiped away from me

I like the way he smells, the way he tastes, and the way he stares at me. I liked the mystery and the endless possibilities that came with him, I like the dreams untold even unsought that have become true with us and I like all that it seemed I learn just by being by his side ..

May we have the time to take each other as what we trully are

May us have the wisdom to build firmly 

and to face the storms that we might find

May we share the tenderness to hold each other

as the treasure we can be

May us have the understanding to realize

there is a past but more than that,  a future

May us be honest enough

to truly love the other

as the other needs to be loved

but more than anything

if this is to be 

may we persevere

to make us solid true
B illescas

The Traveler's Companion

Although it may seem unbelievable, for his strength and achievements would never tell he needed anything,  he in fact always wanted to share the world with someone else. And when I say the world I really mean much more than that, I also mean , the beautiful places of his own soul. Through the already somehow even path called his life, he had needed or at least wanted to have someone by his side. And how wonderful and generous that side he gave away was! 

True to his beliefs, the seeker sought to get where he thought he could, so -never forgetting purpose and dreams-  he walked steadily towards the end of the world taking with him the travel companions that he found along  his way. There,  he opened new paths filled with perfume and color, there he dove into waterfalls of chances and taught his companions to be wild, there he climbed  high mountains always being first yet  always holding hands. There he jumped over cliffs and served as bridges when the others needed that.  

And not once did he really forget to stop and listen the birds singing, pick a fallen flower, taste the rain and jump in paddles or breath deeply the morning breeze of others dreams... nor did he ever forget to watch the sunset while building castles until the night was deep.

Maybe the  companions he chose sometimes with time turned blind, incapable of seeing the true beauty behind his soft manners and persistent will,  maybe some of them  were not generous enough to understand that,  in order to take- every now and then- we can also be blessed by giving  as much as possible. Maybe some were not as constant as he was because- although he might have gone from one corner of the world to another- he was always present where he was needed.

Like sunset and sunrise are present right there if we care to see... so was he giving each the possibility to have some rest and the chance to hope for hope. 

Yet those companions were able to share his visions and dreams for brief instants that were enough to keep him hoping. 

And although he had the world to give he asked for very little in return deep within he always waited. Until one afternoon, he found that they seemed  deaf, seemed hard, seemed  they were not eager to share and give,  and seemed they wouldn't follow anymore … and yet although he thank their dancing while they walked with him, there were still so many  rainbows to persue! 

And so he wept for although he had trees, he knew there were forests, although he had rivers, he knew  there were oceans, although he had sun rays , he knew there were falling stars... And the time came when half broken inside he realized that too many paths had been taken by himself alone

-Little did he know that later he would rejoice because indeed there were forests, there were oceans, and there were falling stars- for  his soul- although seldom asking but always hoping- was not content and deep inside never gave up of finding that true companion who would hold him when -hesitant and quiet - he might need a smile during the night .  

So he cursed and promised never to seek again, the world half conquered was enough and it would be his only dream.  And he kept walking, for walking was what he really had always needed, yet his love of  knowledge, love of being, love or learning and love of giving were always pulsing

And  one day, one common simple day,  he heard another song. This song talked about the same places where he had been but with other colors, the places he had always dream of but with another warmth, the places he- without knowing it- still wanted to conquer  and which will bring solace to his soul.  Then something buried deep  inside started to stir his soul making him wanting to dissolve in dreaming for one last time

So irresolutely, understanding that life is change and change might mean life, understanding that there will always be another chance for those who seek, he climbed again and saw from above that what he perceived to be the world was only one forest with one valley, one ocean with one sky and he smiled and believing that it was fine to turn around and see, he turned around and saw that besides his steps there were the timid steps of another travel companion that  returned his gaze with wonder extending his arms to embrace his world and who while smiling back at him softly whisper:  A deep cliff might be the beginning of the highest hill to climb and conquer


Billescas

New Project 11

Ha Nacido un Nuevo Hijo

Llegó y la casa se llenó de fragancia.
Parece primavera.
En Ti, Padre santo hontanar de toda paternidad
en Ti están todas nuestras fuentes.
Nos has enviado un regalo
deseado y soñado:
Un niño ha llegado al banquete de la fiesta.
¡Sea bienvenido!

¿Con qué palabras te daremos gracias,
Señor de la vida, con qué palabras?
Gracias por sus ojos y sus manos,
gracias por sus pies y su piel,
gracias por su cuerpo y su alma.

En tus manos de ternura lo depositamos
para que lo anides y lo mimes
y lo llenes de dulzura.

Padre Santo y querido, pon un ángel a su lado
para que cierre el paso a la enfermedad y todo mal
y lo guíe por el sendero de salud y bienestar.

El Bien, la Paz y la Bendición
lo acompañen por todos los días de su vida.

Amén.

Personaje Destacado del 2011

No Volverás

"...pero mudo, absorto y de rodillas,

Como se adora a Dios ante su altar

Como yo te he querido,

Desenganate, asi no te querran!

De Volveran las Oscuras Golondrinas" G. A. Bequer

No volverás a oir mi risa porque se habrá refugiado
en los labios de otro que no ofrezca mentiras,
ni volverás a escuchar mis pasos
que vuelven vacilantes al umbral de tu puerta,
Ni tampoco mi voz suave que musita tu nombre
mientras sostiene pensamientos tras un dia cansado,
ni mis carcajadas alegres
que provoquen las tuyas
en una noche tibia de un verano que escapa

Ni tampoco verás de nuevo en mis pupilas negras
destellos de arcoiris que reflejen las tuyas
ni sentirás mis manos suaves
recorriendo tus rostro para borrar las lagrimas
que yo misma un dia provocase,
ni sentirás mi brazo alrededor de tus hombros
como compañera amiga de caminos y surcos;
ni sentirás mis besos saciando tu deseo
ni escucharás mi llanto, ni tampoco mis dudas

Y no habrán de darse mas mañanas de encanto,
ni tardes de otoño, ni noches de sueño,
ni volverás siquiera a sostener mi mano
pretendiendo en silencio que deseas guiarme.
No volverás tranquilo a descansar la faena
sobre sabanas limpias que huelen a decencia
y que no estan manchadas con amores pasados
Ni volverás tampoco a caminar a mi lado
sin entender siquiera lo que la suerte ha traido

Tampoco escucharás la suplica en mis labios
o mi llamado cargado de esperanza,
ni sentiras mi angustia al saber que he perdido
ni tampoco mi aliento brindandote consuelo
No escucharás mi canto ni soñarás mis sueños
Ni oirás de mi el adiás que esta noche
ni mereces, ni aceptas, ni comprendes, ni lloras
y esperaras por siempre porque un dia regrese
aunque entiendas muy dentro que esta vez si he partido

B illescas

Made in Spain

Este es el cuento de la pequena diminuta antes que decidiera asomar su naricita al mundo

La pequena diminuta habia sido encargada en America pero el pedido no llego cuando debia ya ni se sabe porque motivo, entonces se decidio ordenarla en Barcelona porque alli se sabe que se tiene garantia

Pues han de estar y estaran que Pequena Diminuta empezo a germinar como florecita del campo. Crecia calladita sin tanto jaleo sin molestar de noche sin causar estragos, solo de vez en cuando le agarraba las Sardanas tan propias de su tierra con un taconeo que si de veras hubiesse llevado tacones hubiese generado estragos en el vientre de su casi santa madrecita o quizas no fueran mas que el anuncio de futuras pataletas ya que como mujercita digna nieta de su abuela y digna ahijada de su madrina que mostraban ya cual seria su caracter

Pues la Pequena Diminuta era de veras pequenita, pero eso si! saldria al mundo gritando joder que al fin vine! y no habria gigante que no venciera

Y es que su camino ya habia sido pavimentado con oraciones y buenos deseos y esperanzas y alegrias desde antes que mandasen la primera foto mostrando como seria cuando al fin viniese

La Pequena Diminuta intuia que vendria a incorporarse a las filas de guerreras a las que sin duda habia pertenecido por destino y desde siempre y planeaba con su angel las bendiciones que llevaria para ellas baja cada brazo...
Una brisa de suenos limpidos, una rafaga de esperanzas nuevas, una lluvia de risas tranquilas, una arcoiris de ternura y tambien un universo de ilusiones cargado del aroma de promesas buenas que Dios, padre amoroso que todo lo sabe y todo, todo lo puede con su soplo divino de vida regalo a nuestras vidas el dia en que le dio la vida a la Pequena Diminuta

Y en la oscuridad de su nido escuchaba el llamado del amor de tantos que la esperaban invitandole a danzar la vida

la Viuda de mi padre

A mi madre quien merece "un techo de diamantes"

La casa como ella, se habia ido quedando vacia de companias, de risas, de presencias. La primera partida fue la del esposo y ya desde entonces empezo a declinar. Mas de treinta anos pasaria alli sin el, sonando su abrazo y acariciando su voz en la distancia... Churra?
Luego habrian de venir otros adioses igual de dolorosos igual de terminantes: " Lunico terminante mijita mia, es la muerte"

Primero fueron las paredes las que perdieron su blancura y las que fueron cubriendose de musgo, asi como a su semblante le cubrio una palidez que nunca habia tenido. Luego el agua no corrio mas con fuerza por entre el alcatarillado, asi como en su risa la carcajada no volvio a deslizarse facil y traviesa. Y cada puerta de tanto no abrirse, por extrano sortilegio se volvio mas pesada asi como ella no volvio a cantar esas canciones con las que acunaba a los ninos que junto a ella alli crecieron
Y los cristales en las ventanas perdieron la transparencia con la que sus ojos devolvieron un dia la mirada de aquel que la amo tanto
Y el pasillo se volvio silencioso pues no hubo mas pasos que lo recorrieran, asi como sus
zapatos que no conocieron mas bailes
Y los techos se llenaron de grietas y ranuras asi como su memoria se emsobrecio con recovecos y vacios que no obedecian ni respondian preguntas
Ya no hubo sobremesas ni trajines mananeros; ya no sono mas el telefono ni se escucho la musica, ya no hubo ruido de bebidas ni cacerolas ni fiestas, ni tampoco amaneceres de vida.

Las cortinas perdieron los tonos dorados, las alfombras agarraron olor a abandono..mientras ella caminaba despacio esperando la llamada
Ya los cuadros ni las fotos tuvieron mas sentido y cada silla se volvio un adorno, las
ventanas ya no se abrieron y nunca volvio el aire nuevo
Hasta el jardin crecio salvaje a su antojo cubriendo la alameda con raices torcidas asi como
sus venas aparecieron azules sobre su piel arrugada

Pero lo que no se miro nunca a simple vista fue como el deterioro de los escombros del olvido tejio al mismo tiempo en los cimientos de la casa, un riachuelo de certeza. Tanta lagrima derramada, tanta palabra musitada a medias, tanta plegaria por los que habia amado, cimento las piedras del camino hacia donde un dia la esperaria su mansion de ensueno. Donde siempre tocarian el timbre, donde las puertas se mantendrian abiertas, donde los pasillos habrian sido ya mullidos por otros pasos amorosos que la antecedieron y donde la guardaria el mejor de los techos y la esperaria el mejor de los abrazos...

Mi casa

...the frail audacious permanence of a bird's nest built on the edge of a cliff-- a mere wisp of leaves and straw, yet so put together that the lives entrusted to it may hang safely over the abyss from The House of Mirth

New Project 11

LO QUE PIENSO YO

Esto es lo que yo pienso y como este blog fue creado para mi, si alguien mas lo lee es pura casualidad, lo que pienso lo pienso para mi y lo escribo como protesta callada o como resistencia pasiva contra lo que nos hacemos los unos a los otros no con el objeto de dar consejos a los ya abrumados con sabiduria

Nuestros padres crecieron sin tanta informacion, tanta ayuda, tantos consejos, tantos libros de autoayuda, tantos corrientes sicologicas indicado en todo aquello en que fallamos.  Probablemente no fueron mas felices pero tampoco les fue tan mal. Y es que en ese entonces el sentido comun era lo que imperaba.

Acabo de terminar de leer un libro sobre codependencia y lo he cerrado furiosa.  Resulta que todas las caraceteristicas del ser codependiente las tengo no solo yo sino mis hermanas,  mis amigas, mis colegas, mis hijas, mis amores, mis enemigos, mis admiradores, mis detractores y hasta mi sicologo si lo tuviera!  Absolutamente todos, entonces porque salir con la palabrita si todo lo que lo que pensamos que es normal, resulta que es pracxticamente, sinonimo de  codependiente! e.  Pero si ya sabia hace ratos que todos tenemos nuestras locuras y nuestras fallas.  Quien dijo nunca dijo que eramos perfectos? No se transcurre por la vida para salir incólume

A mi mis papas me pegaban con cincho y segun recuerdo dolia y segun recuerdo tambien si podia, lo contaba exagerado en el colegio deleitandome pensandodo en elc astigo que recibirian y si podia trataba de estirar al maximo cualquier situacion con tal de lograr lo que queria y a veces solo el cincho me detenia.  Yhoy eso ni me importa ni me lastima, me da un poco de risa porque eso no me hizo cuestionar nunca el amor de mis padres que se manifestaba de muchas formas aunque ellos trabajaran y no me dieran "calidad de tiempo" o no pasasen horas dedicados a escuchar las estupideces que llenaban mi cerebro. Ellos dictaban lo que habia que hacerse, habian reglas claras y nadie era cuestionado ni criticado como padre. Habian unos mas estrictos y otros mas suaves pero todos exigian. Eran padres que esperaban sin duda  que nos supieramos las tablas de multiplicar sin titubear y no iban a hablar con el directorpor que los deberes que dejaba el maestro eran demasiados.  Tampoco se sentaban a supervisar mis deberes ni se esperaba que verificaran que los hiciera. Eso era sobrentendido y se que es por eso que hoy no pretendo que nadie sea responsable de mis responsabilidades

Y si, habian familias que no sobrevivian, algunos divorcios sin duda;  de mi ninez quizas recuerdo un par no mas; como que la idea de compromiso y respeto estaba mejor inculcada; en esas generaciones se vivia mas sano sin tanta" permisividad". Pero si nadie nos abrumba con tanta palabreria para empezar
No se habla tampoco de co paternidad, por favor!  En que cabeza cabe que dos personas que se llegan a detestar van a de veras trabajar en duo por el pequeno querubin sin tratar de fastidiar a la persona que han traicionado o que las ha traicionado de una forma u otra.

Los padres eran padres y no seudo amigos que permiten todo y que no esperan nada.  Yo sentia por ambos verdadero respeto y nunca dude que iban a estar alli por mi, incluso cuando descubri sin querer que mi padre era al fin tambien de arcilla
No era mi papel señalarlo, juzgarlo, ni entenderlo porque no era mi igual
Mi mama tenia su vida y se la gozaba y sabia darme lo que necesitaba cuando yo lo necesitaba pero supo a Dios gracias perseguir sus aspiraciones propias sin caer en la negacion de ella misma a traves de la autoinmolacion de su yo para ser madre abnegada.  Lo fue pero a su modo teniendo muy en cuenta sus propias necesidades y tambien como todos sigue siendo de arcilla. Y asi, es perfecta

Nadie se atormentaba por no ser buen amante, por no ser buena esposa, por no ser exitoso, por no ser popular, en los colegios no habian bullies y si los habia un reglazo de la monja los ponia en su sitio.
Nadie, pero cuando digo nadie. es cierto lo que afirmo, nadie leia libros de autoayuda ni gastaba millonadas en siquiatras y medicinas . Si habia dolor y penas se enfrentaban, se vivian, se trataban de solucionar y se aprendia a ser estoico. Esa fuerza serviria mas adelante para otro golpe que sin duda la vida traeria. Pero,los momentos buenos eran saboreados mientras el nectar de la vida nos chorraba por las comisuras llenas de dulces frutas cortadas de los arboles. No habia productos greenwise carísimos porque todo era naturalmente greenwise y nuestros padres se dedicaban a pasarla bien con sus amigos mientras nosotros los ninos nadabamos subiamos montanas ibamos a las ferias nos colgabamos de vejucos sin adultos supervisando nuestros juegos y nadie nos separo de nuestros padres por acusarlos de negligencia.   Recuerdo a mi padre regresar entonado subiendose a las banquetas y sonrío por la alegria de esas noches y las noches en que tomaba un jaibol despues del  trabajo. En mi casa ha de haber habido alcohol pero ni se me ocurrio probarlo en eso entonces y a la fecha no soy adicta a nada...creo....

Nadie se pasaba leyendo libros para comprender al ser humano porque el sentido comun y la bondad natural nos ayudaban a entendernos. Luego no se donde nos perdimos pero que perdida de madre, Dios mio! Y por ello afloraron hace unos 20 anos todos estos "maravillosos" libros y forwards y consejos y talleres, y diserciones sobre absolutamente todo lo que nos aflije y el cómo manejarlo "efectivamente". Efecfivamente mi sombrero!

De plano que soy yo, porque sino ya hubieran quebrado toda la retahila de negocios que han florecido con las autoyudas famosas,  pero a mi a la fecha no hay un libro de esos que yo  diga CAMBIO MI VIDA!
Puchis y si no quiero cambiarla y si aun dolorosa insabora e incolora por ratos es asi como me gusta? Y si mi yo, dificil,  egoista, cambiante, loco, danado, perseverante y con unos cuantos logros me gusta y me cautiva tal y como es?

En todo caso no esperar que la paz, la sabiduria, la co templacion vengan de alguien mas

Demen a Ghandi, a Budha, a Jesucristo sin pastores ni profetas ..demen verdaderos hombres de carne y hueso  que profesaron un amor inmenso pr la humanidad y por la divinidad a la que todos quizas podemos aspirar...y lograr
Que de repente pueda leer una frase de los grandes y que se me deje masticarla mi ritmo y seguir si puedo cuando y como yo quiero.

Nunca rebaños de vacas pastando el mismo concepto para regresar a su casa y ser mas egoistas, mas cerrados al mundo, mas pequenos
Que nos se nos olvide que fuimos dotados de lo que  se necesita para ser grande, y todos lo seremos en nuestra forma particular si nos esforzamos

Y si portamos heridas que no sanan y que nos hacen caminar doblados, aullar de dolor, buscar remedios que sanen, equivocandonos una y otra vez, QUE?   Y si ese dia no estamos del todo limpios y relucientes, QUE?  y si otro dia tropezamos y caimos bajo, y si los demonios  internos no han sido vencidos, QUE? De veras creen que al no ser nosotros tendremos un mundo mucho mejor?
Dejenos en paz si es mucho pedir que nos acompanen.
Understood, ahora,  a correr!

Asi que si pienso esto y sigo siendo la misma mula echada que he sido siempre, seguro, seguro, segurisimo un libro de xxx no va a cambiar mi vida...ni la suya

Pero eso es loque pienso yo

LIMPIEZA

Para aquel que un día provoco estas lineas,

que mi odio lo alcance

de forma tal que no regrese nunca.

Y que estas palabras que nunca fueron mias

Me liberen, me laven, me rediman y sanen.

La traición de veras mata y envenena el alma

Esta fria determinación de borrarte, te la debo y no se como pagartela para lograrlo

Esta duro desprecio con el que te recuerdo, te lo endoso para que sea a ti a quien manche y envenene

Este deseo que me embriaga por verte tocar fondo, te lo regalo, para que llegues allí todavía mas pronto.

Estos recuerdos que quedan, en los cuales lo bueno -si lo hubo- esta manchado de odio, como usurero te los presto, para que te mantengas distante y lejano y para que yo al reclamarlos no olvide a mi vez lo bajo que caimos

Si pudiera arrancarme la piel que tu besaste, lo haría una y otra y hasta otra vez sin con eso borrase cada beso que diste con tu boca gastada y si al final de esta historia algo bueno quedase, sera el comprender que quzas use tanto como fui utilizada, bravo, bravo maestro de la farsa!!!!!!!

Asi que hoy al ser esto lo ultimo que escribo, hombre pequenito para quien no hay diferencias, quiero darte las gracias por no haberme cumplido, por el descuido al mentir tan pobremente y por haberme mostrado la infamia que este mundo guarda, en fin! por obligarme a ver al fin lo que siempre siempre fuiste...

Que tus dobleces te den los dividendos merecidos , que la cosecha sea plena y dadivosa y que te pierdas en miserias y te llenes de angustias; que abandonado y solo entiendas que lo que tienes no es mas que tu retorno por todas las formas en que tu abandonaste. Que algún dia en vano intento de reparar lo destruido quieras limpiar esta tierra de la escoria que creaste y no puedas hacerlo. Que te revuelques en dolor insoportable y que pronto realices que no hay a quien llamar ni quien responda. Que te roben lo que aprecias y que la paz no te acompañe, que tus miedos mas grandes sea te vuelvan verdades, que el dolor te transforme y que no puedas sanarte, que tu orgullo y tu desidia sean tu mortaja y que hasta en la muerte lamentes tus acciones baratas … en fin, que se te haga justicia y que recibas -asesino de sueños, forjador de mentiras - lo que tu - dadivoso- en tu vida brindaste

Billescas

Thanksgiving 2011