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OLIVER

Para los amigos viejos y para los que habran de venir

 

Oliver vivio conmigo alrededor de 7 anos, hasta que un dia, debo de reconocerlo, huyo!.  Aun no era tan viejo para retirarse en silencio y morir quizas en las vecindades rodeado del amor de una nueva conquista, ni tan joven para irse con alguien que lo acaparara tanto que no volviese yo nunca nunca a saber mas de el! 

Por lo tanto entonces no me queda otra que aceptar que realmente Oliver me dejo.  Pero creo que a de haber sido motivo de fuerza mayor. 

 

Fue mi constante compnaia cuando no podia alcanzar a nadie mas y cuando, aun mejor!, me sobraban los brios en imaginacion, alegria, candor y tenacidad.

Me encantaba apapucharlo, abrazarlo, vestirlo, desvestirlo, acompanarlo y que el me acompanara en todito aquello que imaginara yo podia hacerse.

 

Oliver casi que aceptaba todas mis ideas con bastante parsimonia y la verdad poca curiosidad.  Si teniamos invitados, estaba presente pero en cuanto podia, como escaldado, se escapaba sigilosamente.  Y es que la gente no le convencia.

 

Era tan atinado, tan abierto y tan aceptante que dejaba que yo hiciera con el lo que se me daba la gana, menos aquello que fuera en contra de su naturaleza.

Tenia los ojos felinos mas verdes que se hayan visto y un porte elegante e insolente.  Se mantenia en forma y casi nunca, si desaparecia , lo hacia por mucho tiempo.  El si que me fue leal siempre!

 

Oliver llego a mi vida de puro refilon.

Estabamos con una de mis mejores amigas, la Isabelita, que por cierto, era adorable y llamaba mucho la atencion, en el convento Las Capuchinas. A ella los guardianes la prefirieron y le presentaron al animal.  Ella , calmadamente lo rechazo.  Que entendieran por favor que a ella sus padres no le permitian esas libertades.

 

Asi que de segundas, Oliver paso a mi poder!!!! Yo patalie, y suplique y patalie otro poco y al fin mis papas me permitiron llevarme el trofeo a la casa.  Ya no tendria que esconder los  sapitos que capturaba y luego escondia en mis bolsillos cada sabado en el club donde mi papa jugaba golf .  Ahora, oh maravilla!!!!, tenia un gato en mi poder!!! ( que habra sido de tantos sapos???)

 

Desde ese dia y por muchos mas, Oliver ( que es el nombre que mas recuerdo porque la verdad le cambiaba de nombre casi que cada mes) se convirtio en mi companero.  Con EL desayunabamos lechita cpn cereales, a EL vestia con la ropita rosada de mis munecas- gorro, calzones, botitas y vestidito!, con el miraba Chespirito, con el bailaba, las canciones de titanes en el rin, (Dios porque no habia pg en ese entonces..como me costaria mas adelante refinar el gusto!) , con El, me subia a los tejados intentando atrapar mas gatos para nuestro club.  El seguro, lo logro ciertas noches, yo nunca.  Pero igual, Oliver estaba siempre alli.  Tanto asi que cuando recibiamos visitas, yo me empenaba en ensenar que Oliver cantaba lindo, y como no entendia por que el gato infeliz no maullaba cuando yo asi se lo ordenaba, le apretaba delicadamente la patita hasta que el gatin aullaba.  Si, ya se, que horror!!!, como que no media que estaba siendo malevola...eso ha de haber sido el preambulo de lo que hoy me toca pagar...

Ya mas crecidita, talvez a los 10, escuche por alli, que los gatos usaban los bigotes para no somatarse contra todo, -pero que maravillosa informacion!!...seria posible un sistema tan intrigante? a ver, habia que probarlo. - Oliver con los bigotes cortados era OIliver el somatador de paredes.  Ppbre Oliver.  Esa vez no pudo salir maullando enajenadamente como lo hacia cuando me empenaba en acostarlo en el carruje con su patitas apuntando al cielo. 

aaah de alli quizas el comentario de mi papa..."no Beatricita... los gatos siempre estan con las patas hacia abajo, de alli, que caen siempre parados.  OTRO experimento para experimentar!!!! Y si me subia a la escalera y lo iba dejando caer cada tres escalones.  Jesus santisisismo! era cierto, menos mal en la grada novena me aburri del asunto!

 

Asi Oliver fue mi preparatoria para los tanes en el amor.  Fui tirana y experimente con corazones tiernitos, ajena a entender que los ninos con voz de falsete y piernitas flacas que se desbordaban en huesos debajo de los shorts, realmente tenian sentimientos y que si se les cortaba, sangragaban o se tropezaban igualito a Oliver. Mi curiosidad por subir, bajar, apretar enderezar tornillos era igualita a la mostrada en cada uno de mis experimentos con Oliver.  Y es que que hago con esta mente cientifica que se desbordaba de..y si? y que pasa si? y si pruebo esto que?  Y al igual que con Oliver, esos muchachoitos compartieron tambien mi dulzura y alegria propia de mi propia juventud.  Afortunadamente, si no, hoy seria buscada por crueldad.

 

Pero mas que eso, Oliver fue mi primer amigo.  Se mantuvo alli pegadito a mi, aun contra su espiritu independiente, aun cuando sin duda, si hubiera podido, me hubiera dado dos buenas sentadas , o arrastradas por no hacer las cosas debidamente, Como lo haria un amigo.  O como un amigo, muchas noches ronroneo placidamente a mi lado mientras yo dejaba mi imaginacion correr con todo lo que haria cuando fuera grande.  Como un amigo verdadero vivio junto a mi  las aventuras que yo escogia cada dia acompanndome a trepar por cuanto tejado me permitierna, o a poner trampas inservibles para cazar mi locura del momento.

Tambien sabiamente y con una elgancia exquisita me enseno que se podia (ahora parece ser que ya no se podria) estarse limpiecito sin necesidad de agua y mucho menos jabon!. No me duro mucho  semejante ensenaza gracias a Dios pero he oido por alli que a otros si les pega fuerte

 

Jajaja, que las asociaciones sobran! Ojala y que se vislumbren facilmente...gatos, sapos, tejados y aventuras!!!   Oliver aqui disfraza con claridad gatuna, lo que los amigos han sabido ser desde el principio del principio.  Companeros , Sanchos Panza de las quijotadas locas que a todos se nos ocurren.  Aceptadores rebeldes de nuestro carino y de nuestras opiniones y tambine a veces de nuestras acciones. A  veces callados, a veces maullando de lo lindo, los amigos presentes acompanan, guian, siguen, huyen tambien a veces,  pero siempre estan alli cuando se necesitan.  Saben llegar si se les llama pero tambien, gracias a Dios,  saben ser sordos a nuestras necedades indicandonos  con bigotes largos y bien definidos, para donde va el camino y donde quedan los obstaculos.

Atlanta 18 de diembre de 2013

DOVE SEI GLI AMERICANI

Pues Isa se va a Italia.  Mi farfallina tiene un sueno finalmente y se arremanga y decide partir.

Como mama que soy, no puedo dejar de planear, modificar, intentar , decidir, todo lo que absolutamente se me pasa por la cabeza.

Tengo tantas esperanzas por  y para la Isa, por que esto sea “The beginning of a beautiful friendship” entre su salud en todo sentido y su futuro.  Algo dentro de mi me dice que esta es la solución de las muchas soluciones que habrán de venir y que el hunch que tenia no estaba  equivocado.

Una de las primeras cosas que hacemos juntas en este proyecto compartido es mis clases de italiano con las que ya he torturado a muchas personas.  De donde se me mete que yo puedo ensenar algo que ni siquiera chapuceo a medias?? Si, si claro que  entiendo la gramática y puedo valerme de la lógica de las estructuras para comunicarme en el idioma pero las nuevas generaciones les importa un pito el sujeto, la terminación de los verbos, las declensions y después de tres días Isa ya se cuelgaEducada me hace upas y trata pero la verdad mama!!!.  Pone de su parte y trata y trata aun cuando yo le hago un completo y reverente  relajo al explicarle il, i y gli.  O al pretender que recuerde que aquí, el plural cambia no a s sino a vocales y que todo depende si el sustantivo es masculino o femenino.

Finalmente medio divertida decide preguntar con cierto ingenio., y luego muerta de la risa anuncia que en realidad eso es lo único que quiere aprender a decir en italiano ya que basta encontrar a los Americanos para dares a entender en esta otra lengua que ha sido la suya desde hace 10 anos.

Pues llegamos a Florencia.  La veo atreviéndose a sonar.  Temerosa y ansiosa pero  no mas de lo que se espera.   Observando detenidamente.  Sopesando que tomara como suyo de las cosas que yo hago , opino o dispongo y que no. ( al parecer habran muchas mas que nos que que sis)  y es que mi farfallona no tiene nada de frágil cuando de opinar se trata,  tampoco acepta fácilmente los cambios.  Por el contrario, los rechaza fehaciente y empecinadamente.  Pero de repente, no se como ni por que  arte de magia, los acepta y entonces los abraza determinadamente y los vuelve suyos. Con S mayúscula.

Cuando era chiquita cada nuevo libro de cuentos era casi que tema de contienda  hasta las ultimas pues no quería soltar el libro que de tanto leer y tocarse había tenido que ser forrado con papel contact.  Lo mismo con su Sneeze.  La Dretty tenia a los 7 enanitos de Blanca Nieves y a Isa Sneezy le encanto particularmente Sneeze cuando tenia  2 anos.  Creo que verdaderamente fue su primer amor… yo, intentando confundirla, los tiraba en el suelo, los revolvía y esperaba a ver si volvía por N vez a escoger a Sneeze.  (Al fin y al cabo, todos los enanitos viejitos deberían de parecerle iguales a una niña de 2 anos.)  Pero no, siempre sin equivocarse o siquiera titubear, volvía a escoger a Sneeze, se lo colocaba bajo el antebrazo y se iba a hacer sus cosas. 

Y así todo lo que vino a continuación.  Videos, escuelas, compañeritos, materias., comida, ropa, peinados.  Imposible peinarla o mantenerla peinada, tenia trajecitos preciosos pero su ropa favorita era simplemente su calzon y su camiseta. A la fecha, ha usado el mismo top de brassiere desde hace al menos 4 anos. Que le importa si no es sexy o si parece trapeador en desgracia.  No logro que se lo quite o que lo cambie por ningún otro. Por nada! 

Isa  escogía y era incondicional a lo que escogiera y peor aun. Necia con N de no se que! para aceptar sugerencias o recomendaciones. En realidad recomendarle algo era como decirle.  ESTO NO DEBE DE TOMARSE

Al menos así fue siempre conmigo

Y sin embargo, creo que de mis hijas, la mas apasionada para quererme,  serme leal y necesitarme.

En fin, primera salida en Florencia: ir al súper!!!.  No se como describir la cara que puso al entrar al primer supermercado que fuimos.  Me imagino que la comida , se este donde se este, es siempre sinónimo de confort y seguridad; de allí que fuese de tamaña importancia el conseguir un buen lugar donde hacer su supermercado.  Pero estos que encontramos no eran supermercados tipo los Publix eficientes, ordenados y abundantes que frecuentamos aqui  Estos eran tienditas con un tendero y espacios ínfimos donde se acumulaban abarrotes.  Astral y ancient al mismo tiempo para la niña.

Diligente con D de "Decia", investigo e investigo hasta que encontró EL supermercado de Florencia : Span Luscesrissimo.  Y no se como, siendo Florencia la ciudad donde se puede llegar a todo caminando por 5 minutos, me convenció que nos montáramos a un taxi y recorriéramos a saber ni que distancia para llegar al spa de los supermercados.

Llegamos y literalmente vi como se desinfla un globito humano.  Pero no dijo nada.  Y arremetio contra la puerta con dignidad de duquesa.  Valientemente entro y se recorrió los pasillos buscando el queso kraft..que, al parecer,  simplemente no se vende en Italia.  De alguna manera y aquí debo de reconocer que este “spa” era ligeramente mayor que las tienditas cerca de su apartamento, y si logro encontrar lo que andaba buscando  Allí va el  Sneeze.

Con buen sentido del humor y buen talante me suelta:<. Esta es la ultima vez que venimos al Spa S… > eso si, lo dijo luego de andar cargando un cachinbazal de  bolsas hacienda clavito para que el taxi que nos cobro casi mas que el monto entero del supermercado, por fin apareciese.

(Isa. Todos los enanitos de Blanca Nieves son iguales.  Y no, aquí no hay queso Kraft, pero los quesos que hay son increíbles..

La verdad mama, yo quero mi queso Sneeze.)

Pero en el fondo entiendo el proceso y la intención de crear su hogar con lo conocido de forma tal que cuando me tocara a mi despedirme, tuviese ya  la estructura de lo amado y lo conocido y eso, farfallina mía, eso es, armarse para poder ajustarse mejor

En la noche la veo e dormir rendida de tanto cansancio emocional.  Sin moverme pongo mis manos sobre ella y rezo y rezo y rezo encomendándosela a la virgencita, madre y mujer para que la cuide y le de su mano y la guie para salir adelante libre de los abismos donde ha caído. 

Rezo con un fervor que nunca antes he sentido, con una fuerza de amor que nunca antes me ha abrumado así.  Veo su cuello blanco y fino contra las sabanas su cabello oscuro contrastando con esa delicadeza que percibo en su cuello. La siento pequeñita, vulnerable  pero al mismo tiempo me inundo de la sabiduría de saber que esa delicadeza disfraza un temple enorme de tenacidad y necesidad de lograrlo y algo me dice que estar bien 

En contraste con el silencio absoluto de nuestras noches en Atlanta, aquí es imposible creerse solo, son las dos de la madrugada y aun hay gritos, bocinazos, ambulancias, carretas contra el pavimento, hombres riendose, en la esquina bajo su ventana y se siente todo casi como si se tuviese un mundo dentro del cuarto   Y cada mañana mil campanas repiquetean cantándole a la vida y a la esperanza.

Isa es la lealtad personificada, la Guerra en vestido, la alegría sencilla en saltitos de niña, el ingenio pícaro del sentido del humor hacia uno mismo, la sabiduría de saber estarse callada y observar lo que pasa a tu alrededor.  La magnitud de no juzgar.  La generosidad de no pedir mas, la gentileza de ser siempre considerada.

Isa es tanto que ni ella misma se da cuenta pues todavía no ha terminado de encontrase

Asi que… Dove sono gli americani y tutto quello e amato per uno,? In el cuore farfallina ..in il cuore percio… nunca sei perduta

10 de mayo 2013

This picture slideshow personalized with Smilebox

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 ..